


Love Has A Quiet Voice

by Casloveshisfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Best Friends, Comfort/Angst, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, In Every Verse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mentions of Wartime, Minor Character Deaths, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soldier!Cas, There is a lot of angst here but, Touch is their Love Language, domestiel, mentions of domestic abuse, so much cuddling, the greatest love story ever told, young destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14112924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casloveshisfreckles/pseuds/Casloveshisfreckles
Summary: Dean Winchester isn't sure what to expect from the shy eight-year-old that moves in next door, but what he gets from Cas is a best friend for life. They face things no child should, finding the meaning of a safe home in each other’s arms.Castiel Novak never anticipated saying goodbye to his best friend, but growing up forces them apart. The years without Dean are unkind and Castiel’s world is darker than ever. When their destinies tangle again, Cas wonders if Dean is the salvation he’s been seeking all along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh. This fic. This fic was an absolute labor of love. I got the idea and look, that's not breaking news ok. I have a tendency to come up with some really random ideas for these two and not all of them stick (thank Chuck). But this idea... it kept poking at me. The characters started growing in my mind as I'd be driving, a playlist started forming, flashes of moments between Dean and Cas were just popping up here and there and I couldn't stop them. 
> 
> I'm glad I didn't try. 
> 
> I love this story, this version of Dean and Cas and how sometimes, life is just really awful but having someone you love and who loves you by your side makes all of it suck just a little less. 
> 
> And on that note, I have to say my thanks. As usual, I was excited to have [FanForFanatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic/pseuds/fanforfanatic) read this but as my luck would have it, she was willing and able to beta this for me. Every single bit of writing I was looking at sideways, she noticed and worked with me to fix it and make it perfect. Not only did she excel in her beta duties, she fell for this story as much as I did and that absolutely meant the world to me. I can only wish for everyone to find a friend that believes in your writing as much as Fan believes in mine. Thank you, Darling. For everything. In Every Verse. 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing artist, Correlia-Be who was nothing but a joy to work with. Thank you for bringing this story to life! The link to her art is [here](http://correlia-be.tumblr.com/post/172301688352/love-has-a-quiet-voice-dean-winchester-isnt-sure).
> 
> And thanks to the Pinefest mods for being awesome and hosting this challenge!
> 
> Music Credits:  
> Fic inspiration - [Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0ibBPhiaG0)  
> Title - [The Words - Christina Perry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9tc9R_Y3FY)  
> Master Playlist is [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/3T2Ix3olJKpkgsyUXA0I81)
> 
> Please, please, please mind the tags! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this story!

_What we find in a soulmate is not_

_Something wild to tame_

_But_

_Something wild to run with._

_-Robert Brault_

 

When Dean Winchester is eight years old, the Novak family moves in next door. A mom, a dad, and their son who just so happens to be the same age as Dean. He sits on his front porch and watches the moving van pull up, watches the dark-haired boy climb out the backseat of a silver car, watches as scared eyes grow wide.

He has a lot of friends at school but there aren’t any kids living on his street so to have one move in right next door is exciting. Dean stands and bolts down the steps, stopping short where his grass ends and his new neighbor’s driveway begins.

He smiles and holds the baseball he spent the morning tossing around up to the boy. “Hi! I’m Dean!”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean throws the ball and the boy catches it, startled.

“Wanna play catch? We can play on my grass.”

The boy tilts his head, and curiosity replaces the scared look on his face. He looks to his mom, who’s been watching their exchange, and she gives him an encouraging nod.

“Ok.” He crosses over to Dean’s yard and throws the ball back.

“Do you have a glove? I have an extra if you don’t. It might be big because my dad uses it but that’s ok.” Dean runs to the porch to grab his glove and his dad’s. He looks at both before deciding on something. “Tell you what, I’ll use my dad’s and you can use mine, ok?”

He shoves the glove into the boy’s hands.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“What’s your name anyways?”

The boy looks up from where he is pulling on the glove. “Castiel. Castiel James Novak the Third.”

“Cool name but I think I’ll just call you Cas. That ok?”

Finally, he smiles. It’s big and wide and Dean can see he’s already missing a tooth.

“That’s fine.”

“Sweet! Ok, let’s play.”

The two boys play catch until the sun sets.

When the street lights come on, Dean looks towards his front door.

“My mom says I have to go inside when it gets dark. Do you think your mom will let you come eat dinner with us? You should go ask her and I’ll go ask my mom. Meet you back here in a few minutes, ok Cas?”

Cas goes to his mom, who is still unloading the truck, while Dean gets permission from his. Soon, he’s dragging Cas by the hand to their little bathroom off the hallway, pulling out his green step stool so they can wash their hands. Dean shows him how to scrub his fingernails and laughs as he flicks water at Cas, causing Cas’ eyes to widen before he laughs too. Dean pulls the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his hand and wipes the drops of water from Cas’ cheek.  

That night is the first of a countless number of dinners that Castiel will have at the Winchester home.

***

 

Dean is ten years old when he breaks his leg chasing after his brother Sam and Sam's best friend Brady. They're playing tag, Dean and Cas versus Sam and Brady and it's a gopher hole that does it. The three boys carry Dean back to the house where Sam stays with Mary, crying over breaking his big brother.

Cas holds his hand all the way to the hospital, and Dean only cries once when they set the bone. It’s Cas that wipes away his tears and tries to punch the doctor for hurting his best friend.

Dean gets a blue cast on his leg.

Two days later, Cas jumps off the roof of his garage. On the sixth jump, he breaks his leg too.

When Cas hobbles into Dean’s living room on crutches, a mischievous grin on his face, Dean lights up at the sight.

Cas’ mom, Naomi, looks annoyed and Mary shakes her head when Cas situates himself on the couch. His cast covered leg settles against Dean’s and and the boys grin at each other as Dean pulls a blanket over both of them.

Cas leans in to share his secret with Dean.

“No way was I leaving you alone for six weeks, Dean,” Cas whispers. “I jumped off my roof.” Cas’ laugh warms Dean more than the hot chocolate his mom made them.

“This is gonna be awesome, Cas.”

They spend the next six weeks on Dean’s couch, playing Nintendo, drawing on each other’s casts, and reading comics. Every night, John pulls out the hide-a-bed and Sam helps them make blanket forts, which they promptly kick him out of so they can stay up late watching scary movies.

The casts come off but their sleepovers don’t stop. Their parents attempt to limit them to weekends only but more often than not, Mary finds Cas asleep in Dean’s bed in the mornings, snuggled together in their superhero pjs (Batman for Dean and Superman for Cas) and sharing a pillow.

She used to walk a sleepy Cas back to his house, but gave up the fight three months in. Now, she calls Naomi to tell her where Cas is before feeding them both breakfast and driving them to school together.

That Christmas, John buys the boys a set of walkie-talkies and any time Cas can’t sneak over to Dean’s, they stay up half the night talking between the toys.

“Dean, do you copy? Over.”

“I copy, Cas. You coming for dinner? Mom made spaghetti. Over.”

“I don’t think I can tonight. They’re fighting again. I can hear Mom crying.”

Dean bites his lip. Cas said that when his mom and dad fight bad enough for his mom to cry, she usually ends up sleeping in his room. The first time it happened was the first time Cas snuck over to Dean’s. It scared him so badly, he didn’t want to go home. Dean didn’t tell anyone; he lied to his mom and said Cas just had a nightmare.

Dean had no idea Mary could hear the Novaks fighting, that she knew how often Cas ended up at the Winchester’s and exactly why.

“Cas? You there? You didn’t say over.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave my window open. Ok, Cas? Over.”

“Ok, Dean.”

***

 

Dean and Cas are eleven when Cas’ dad leaves and doesn’t come back.

Dean has gotten into the habit of always leaving his window cracked so Cas can crawl through it at night. Hardly a day passes without his parents fighting and Cas sleeps over almost every night. Dean is so used to it, he can barely sleep without Cas pressed up against him.

The night Cas slips through his window with a split lip is the first night Dean tells his parents that Cas is there without them finding out for themselves.

Dean cups his best friend’s face in his hands. “What happened Cas? Who did this to you?”

Cas cries silently, tears slipping down his cheeks. Dean can’t wipe them away fast enough. “Cas please, tell me.”

“It was my dad.” Cas’ voice is barely a whisper. “He was hurting Mom and—” A sob breaks out and he clings to Dean. “He was hitting her, and I tried to stop him.”

“Shit.” Dean swears and guides Cas to his bed. “Stay here, I’m going to get something for your lip.” He furrows his brow. “Cas, is your mom ok? I think we should tell my dad.”

Cas stands, frantically grabbing Dean’s arm. “No! No, no, Dean please no. You can’t tell.”

“Ok, Cas, ok. I’m just going to see what we have for your lip, ok?” He watches Cas nod and curl up into a ball on his bed. Dean’s heart aches in his chest. He vows to himself that he’ll keep Cas’ secrets for the rest of his life.

Dean tries to be quiet. He tries to slip into the kitchen for ice without his parent’s noticing. They’re watching TV on the couch and Dean thinks he’s in the clear until he drops the ice tray.

John catches him as Dean’s shoving the tray back into the freezer, and he looks suspiciously at the dish towel full of ice on the edge of the kitchen table.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean’s eyes widen as he tries to gather up the towel and the ice and edge out of the room. “N—Nothing, sir. I just… stubbed my toe and I was going to put ice on it.”

His dad isn’t buying it. John lifts him up onto the counter, checking him for bruises or blood and finding none, puts his hands on either side of Dean, looking him dead in the eye.

“What’s the ice for, Dean? The truth now.”

Dean tries to think of a lie, he tries so hard. He thinks of Cas upstairs in his bed, alone and scared and Dean knows this is bigger than him. He apologizes silently to Cas as tears well in his eyes.

Everything spills out at once.

“Cas’ dad hit him and his lip is bleeding because he was trying to protect his mom. His parents fight all the time dad, and he’s really scared.” Dean is crying now. “I got the ice for his lip and he didn’t want me to tell you, but his dad shouldn’t hit him, he shouldn’t hit his mom and I don’t know if she’s ok and—” John cuts him off by grabbing him under his arms and sweeping him into the living room.

“Mary! Take Dean upstairs, Cas is up there and he’s bleeding. That son of a bitch was beating on Naomi and hit him.” His dad grabs his coat and runs out the front door. Dean’s scared, for his dad, for Cas and his mom. He runs upstairs with the ice clenched in his hand and throws his door open.

“Cas, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. My dad, he caught me getting the ice and now he’s going over to your house.”

Cas is halfway out the window, horror etched across his face when Mary pulls him back inside and wraps him in her arms. He sobs and she rocks him back and forth as Dean rests his head against Cas’ shoulder. Mary wraps an arm around him too and rubs circles into Dean’s back while she whispers comforting words to both of them.

It’s not long until Cas pushes Mary away and wraps his arms around Dean, seeking comfort where it’s always been. She tucks them both into Dean’s bed as red and blue flashing lights fill the room, bouncing off the ceiling and reflecting in the mirrored closet doors. Dean presses the now dripping towel of ice to Cas’ lips and pets his hair when he flinches at the cold.

“What’s going to happen, Dean? Do you think… do you think your mom will let me live here if—”

“Shhh Cas, it’s ok. Your mom is going to be ok, don’t talk like that.” Dean hugs him tighter and Cas burrows his face into Dean’s chest. “We’ll make room for your bed if we have to. We can push it up against mine and then we’ll have a huge bed!” He presses a kiss to Cas’ hair. “I’ll never let anything bad happen to you, Cas. Ever.”

It’s later, much later when the police cars are gone and after Mary’s checked on them again, thinking both boys were asleep, that they sneak out of Dean’s room and sit at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping on Dean’s parent’s on the couch.

“The bastard gave her a black eye and busted her lip. What kind of coward—”

“Shhh, John, keep your voice down. You’ll wake the boys.” Mary sighs, something deep and troubled. “I can’t believe this, I can’t believe it got this bad.”

Dean holds Cas’ hand in the darkness.

“She said he was drunk, that his drinking has gotten out of control since he was laid off from the plant. She was making excuses for him, Mary.”

They can hear her sigh again. “He was gone when you got there?”

“That fucking coward. He already had his bags packed. She was begging him not to leave when he started in on her. Said she didn’t even realize he had hit Castiel.”

The sound of a glass hitting the coffee table makes them both flinch.

“I swear Mary, he shows his face here again, I’ll kill him myself.”

“John, don’t talk like that. Please.”

Cas grips Dean’s hand and pulls him back to the bedroom. He’s wordless when he crawls back into the bed and his eyes are wide and tired when Dean looks into them. Dean gets in beside him and Cas pulls the blanket over their heads, burrowing into Dean again. He wraps his arms around Cas and waits until he falls asleep before he lets himself relax.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean and Cas are thirteen when Cas moves out of the house next to Dean's. Despite the two jobs she works, Cas’ mom can't afford the big house and moves them across town where the houses are smaller and the neighborhood isn't as nice. 

In a car, it's ten minutes between their houses. On foot, it takes an hour depending on the weather. On their bikes, they can get to each other in thirty minutes. Less if they cut through the middle school and surrounding woods. 

If Naomi is working a graveyard shift at the Gas N’ Sip, Cas stays at Dean's. It's been two years but he can't sleep in that empty house alone and Dean is more than happy to share his home and bed with his best friend.

For his thirteenth birthday, Dean gets a TV/VCR combo for his room and the boys spend night after night watching movies. Star Wars is a favorite and so is The Goonies. They're still young enough to turn the woods into The Forest of Endor and to create booby traps for any wayward Fratelli’s that might be on their trail. 

Dean's waiting, picking at the popcorn he popped after dinner. Cas is late. Dean knows he's coming, he called while they were eating. The phone rang twice and stopped, their code that he'd be sleeping over. One ring meant he was staying home. 

One ring nights had Dean in bed early, reading until he fell asleep and missing Cas’ warmth. 

He paces, punches their pillows again, smooths his hand over the thick knit blanket his mom made them last Christmas. Big enough to wrap around them both, it was required on movie nights. Dean is two steps away from leaving his room to call Cas when the clatter of the ladder against his window frame stills him. 

His hands plant on the window sill, and he looks down at the mop of dark hair making its way towards him. Cas’ bike is thrown down on the lawn under the ladder. 

“What happened?” Dean hisses. “You're never late.” He grabs Cas’ backpack and hauls it into his room while Cas climbs through the window. He has a smudge of dirt on his cheek and Dean frowns at it, pulling Cas in to rub it away with his sleeve. 

“Rufus’ damn dog was out.” Cas shakes his shoulders loose. “That mutt is a fuckin’ asshole, Dean. It chased me for three blocks before I cut into the field.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. Cas versus Blue was a long standing rivalry. The dog never chased Dean, but he sure hated Cas. 

“OK Mr. Potty mouth, better watch it. Remember the last time my mom caught us cussing?” 

They both shuddered. Mary had caught them playing catch and yelling obscenities at each other, cracking up at their newly learned rebellion. They spent an entire day mucking out horse stalls at the ranch. If that wasn't bad enough, Cas wasn't allowed to spend the night for a week. 

He got good at setting Dean's alarm and slipping out before Mary woke up. 

Dean settles down on his bed and watches as Cas opens his backpack to pull out their movie. He always goes by Star Video after school and picks one up for them. Cas’ older cousin Gabriel works there and lets Cas take movies for free, as long as they get returned the next morning. Unless Dean has a special request, he usually lets Cas pick. 

Cas pops the tape into the VCR and grins at Dean as he takes off his Chucks, kicking them into the corner. He pulls off his hoodie and throws it at Dean, who’s already in their blanket and looking at him unamused. Dean purses his lips and pulls the sweatshirt over his head as Cas climbs into bed, pulling the blanket around them. 

Dean snuggles in, wrapping an arm around Cas while Cas’ arms wrap around his middle, Cas’ head resting on Dean's chest. 

Dean presses play and grins as The Neverending Story starts. It’s in their top ten. Cas always cries when Artax is lost to the swamp and he buries his face into Dean's shoulder. Dean curls his fingers through Cas’ hair and tells him when it's over and he can look again. 

They are almost to the part where Bastian wakes up, when shouting and shattering glass pops their peaceful bubble. Dean tenses and Cas’ arms tighten around him. He pauses the movie and they both listen. 

Dean holds his breath as his dad raises his voice. He’s drunk, and he’s yelling about Dean’s Grandpa Samuel. Again. Mary’s family is prominent in their little town, there’s a street named after them—Campbell Avenue—and the high school football stadium was dedicated to them after a sizeable donation. They own the biggest cattle ranch in town and it was quite the scandal when Samuel’s only child ran off and married a Winchester. 

He jumps when his door creaks open, Sam peeking through the crack. The shouting grows louder and Dean can hear his dad still yelling and this time, he can almost make out what he’s saying. 

Dean opens their blanket as Cas reaches a hand out to beckon Sam to them. 

“Hey Sammy. Do you like Neverending Story?” 

Dean and Cas untangle themselves to let him lay between them. Sam shakes his head as he climbs in. “Too scary.” 

“Ok, what about Duck Tales?” Cas slips off the bed and goes to change the movie. When the cartoon’s theme song starts, Dean turns the volume up to block out the argument escalating downstairs. Cas wraps an arm around both brothers and settles back against the pillows. Sam starts to relax and Dean gives Cas a grateful look over Sam’s head. Cas winks and squeezes his shoulder in response. 

***

Fourteen means high school and Dean and Cas establish a routine. They have four classes together and every afternoon, Cas comes over to Dean’s after school to study. His mom still works too much and is rarely home so Dean’s is the only place Cas wants to be. They study in Dean’s room, the TV going in the background, filling the quiet space. Dean is good at English and Cas’s best subject is math and they help each other through the hard parts. 

Mary calls them down to dinner. It’s meatloaf tonight; Dean’s favorite. Cas tells a story about dissecting a frog and Dean snickers at Sam’s disgusted face. Mary pleads with them to change the subject, dissection is not appropriate dinner conversation, but the boys are laughing and she isn’t too persistent. 

The back door crashes open and the moment is broken. John stumbles in, the smell of booze and stale cigarettes filling the kitchen. Their laughter stops. Mary jumps up and goes straight to the oven where a plate has been warming for John. 

Dean has his eyes glued to his dinner, his appetite gone. He sneaks a look at Sam who is pushing his corn around on his plate and not looking up either. His eyes flick to Cas who is staring at John, his jaw clenched. Dean looks back down at his food. He wishes Cas wouldn’t look at John that way, he wants to avoid anything that might set his dad off. But Cas is different. He deals with consequences better than Dean ever could. 

“The hell is so funny in here?” John opens the fridge and cracks open a can.

“The boys were just telling me about science class. Why don’t you wash up and join us?” Mary sets John’s plate down next to Dean. He flinches. 

“Now you’re gonna tell me when to eat too?” John hasn’t moved. His black boots approach and Dean wants to run to his room but stays, knowing anything can trigger his dad’s anger. 

“No, John. I just thought it would be nice for you to have dinner with your family.” 

“Because I can’t do anything else, right, Mary?” 

Dean braces himself, but relaxes a little when Cas’ foot presses against his. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. I know how you think.” John crushes the now empty beer can and goes for another. 

“Please, John. Let’s just have a nice dinner for once.” 

That’s the wrong thing to say and Dean knows it. 

“For once? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m out looking for work all day and this is the thanks I get?” Dean watches John’s boots as he walks across the kitchen to where Mary is standing. 

“I didn’t mean—” Mary sounds tired. 

“Yeah, yeah. You think I’m a fuck up that can’t provide for my boys.” There’s an edge to John’s voice that scares the shit out of Dean. He tries to think of a way to get them out of there and back up to his room. He lifts his head, about to ask if they can be excused, only to see John standing dangerously close to his mom. 

“You gonna tell me to go work for daddy again?” His voice is filled with venom. 

“I don’t understand why you won’t take him up on his offer. It’s a good opportunity for us.” 

Cas’ hand slips into his under the table and Dean fights back tears. He’s heard this argument before, they all have. After John was laid off last year, his grandpa offered him a job working at the family ranch. Instead of taking it, he made drinking his new hobby. When John does come home, all his parents do is fight. 

It’s impossible to avoid. 

“When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours that I don’t want his fuckin’ charity? I can take care of my own family, damn it.” 

“Can you? Because the only reason we’re eating tonight is because my mother took me shopping this afternoon. Our fridge is full thanks to my parents.” 

Dean doesn’t have time to react. John is back at his side and throwing his plate against the wall. Dean and Cas are out of their chairs and in front of Mary in a flash. Sam is crying where he sits and Dean’s heart is breaking. 

John just laughs. “Oh, big heros now, huh? Ok, let’s see what you two big guys got.” 

Cas grabs Sam and pushes him out of the kitchen before rounding back on John, his eyes full of fire. 

“What the hell are you gonna do? Couldn’t protect your own mama, think you’ve got anything on me?” 

Dean’s rage floods out like a dam breaking. “Just shut the hell up, dad! Why don’t you go sleep it off?” 

John moves quick for an old drunk. He grabs Dean by the shirt and shakes him so hard that Dean’s eyes can’t focus. He freezes at the sound of Cas’ voice. 

“Let him go, you bastard.” Cas is standing next to Mary, their wall phone in his hand. “I’ll call the cops right now, you drunk piece of shit.” 

John glares at him and looks back at Dean, sneering at the tears streaming down his face. “Fucking crybaby. Look at this Mary, you’ve turned this kid into a fucking baby.” 

John lets go of Dean by shoving him into the counter. Pain shoots through his back and he knows he’ll have a bruise tomorrow. He tries to stay steady on his feet. Cas hangs up the phone and crosses the kitchen to stand by Dean. 

“Little assholes, think you’re better than me.” John stalks back over to the fridge and pulls out the rest of the beer. “Your dad had it right, you know.” He’s talking to Cas now, his voice cold with hatred. “Got out while he could. Now I see why.” 

With that, he goes back out the way he came, door slamming behind him. It's not until they hear his truck peeling out of the driveway that they all relax. Cas swipes at his face, refusing to let his tears fall. He grabs the broom from the corner and starts sweeping up the mess. Mary tries to stop him but he refuses, shaking his head without meeting her eyes. 

“Mom, we got this. Go check on Sammy.” Dean steps towards her and presses a kiss to her cheek. She clutches his arm but nods and leaves the kitchen. Dean gets the dustpan and leans down to let Cas sweep the broken glass and food into it. Their eyes meet and the heat has left Cas’ eyes, replaced with sadness. Dean drops the dustpan and grabs Cas, burying his face into the crook of his neck. Cas does the same and his breath is hot against Dean’s skin, his fingers digging into Dean’s hips. 

“I’ll never let him hurt you, Dean. He’ll have to kill me first.” 

***

Nothing changes, much. John won’t stop drinking and no one wants to give a job to the town drunk. His parents fight and Dean spends less and less time at home. He always makes sure that Sam is safe at Brady’s before he goes to Cas’ for the night. They eat cereal for dinner and listen to Cas’ records, old rock and roll albums his dad left behind. He left his truck too and Gabriel teaches them how to drive in the high school parking lot, long after everyone has left for the day. 

Cas turns sixteen and gets a job at Star Video. The day after Dean’s sixteenth birthday, he applies and gets hired which makes sense, considering he’s there every night anyway. 

Two weeks later, John wraps his truck around a tree. He’s dead before the paramedics even show up. 

When the police arrive at their front door, Mary screams and falls to her knees. One cop helps her to the couch as the other gets her some water. She’s sobbing, in distress, and Dean goes on autopilot. He runs upstairs and wakes Sam, helps him get dressed and walks him over to Brady’s. Sam is twelve but not stupid and he knows something is very wrong. Dean tells him once they are at Brady’s and Sam locks himself in the bathroom. 

Brady’s mom reassures him that she’ll take care of Sam, urges him to get back home to his mom. He cuts through Rufus' backyards to get there fast. One of the officers is sitting at his kitchen table and tells him that his mom has gone upstairs to lay down and that his grandparents are on their way and is there anyone else they can call? Dean shakes his head no and watches them leave. He’s numb when he dials the number; Cas is close to locking up for the night. 

“Star Video”

“Cas?” Dean’s voice cracks.

“Dean? Dean, what’s wrong?” 

“Cas. I—Dad—” Dean chokes on the words. “He's dead, Cas. My dad—he's dead.” Dean slides down the wall, unable to support his own weight. He hears Cas tell him he'll be right there before the phone clatters to the floor. 

Dean has no idea how much time passes before the backdoor is thrown open, the sound making him flinch. Cas sees him and slides to his knees, gathering Dean in his arms. Dean lets him, lets his weight fall against Cas, never doubting his support for a second. 

Cas doesn't leave his side, even when his grandparents show up, even when they want to hold him, especially when they decide to take their daughter and her sons away, Cas keeps his arm around Dean. It's Cas that convinces them to let Dean and Mary stay and it's Cas that shows them where the extra sheets are, that directs them on how to open the hide-a-bed. It's Cas that locks all the doors and turns off all the lights, all the while holding Dean's hand as he walks with him. Cas gets them a big glass of water and takes Dean upstairs to his room. 

Dean sits on his bed and finally let's go of Cas’ hand, watches as he pulls back the sheets and spreads their blanket over the bed. He doesn't say a word, hasn't since he called Cas at the video store. He stays quiet as Cas crouches in front of him and pulls his boots off, tucking his socks inside them. He pushes Dean back gently and Dean rests on his elbows as Cas unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants off. 

When Cas runs a hand up and down Dean's leg, his touch light, Dean sighs. He feels like he's in a dream; nothing about tonight feels real. Dean looks at his best friend resting his head on his thigh and something in his chest shifts. 

Dean feels like he doesn't know shit about anything but he's sure of one thing. He can't live without Cas. He won't. He hears a cry and when Cas raises concerned eyes at him, Dean realizes it came from him. He grips Cas’ shoulder, twisting his fingers in the fabric of his shirt, and pulls. It doesn't take much and Cas is pressing him down into the bed, his body heavy and warm on top of him. Dean doesn't want to break their gaze, he'll fall apart if he does, and Cas knows. Cas always knows. He cards his hand through Dean's hair and Dean presses his eyes shut, the burn of tears finally becoming too much. 

He sobs, his chest heaving, and he clings to Cas, clenching his arms. Cas presses down, using his weight to ground them both and he kisses away all the tears that slide down Dean's cheeks. 

When they stop, Cas’ kisses continue.

Cas trails them from his cheeks down to his collarbone and it's soothing. Cas tugs his shirt to the side to expose more of his neck, and Dean pushes up to pull at it. Cas helps him take it off, the cool air sending shivers up his spine. 

Dean looks at Cas and doesn't try to stop his smile. Cas is still wearing his video store shirt and Dean pushes it up at the hem, resting his hand on Cas’ hip. Cas pulls his shirt off and tosses it into the corner with a grin. His pants follow. 

Dean pulls him back down and this time, wraps his legs around Cas’ waist. One arm goes around Cas’ middle while Cas seeks the other, lacing their fingers together. He presses their joined hands into the pillow, and goes back to kissing Dean's neck, sometimes stopping to rub his nose against Dean's skin. A few more tears escape and Cas catches them, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth before dropping back to his jaw. 

Everything about this is soothing and Dean drifts, lost in Cas’ touch. His eyelids feel heavy and he sighs quietly. Cas noses at the soft spot behind Dean's ear and his breath is warm when he speaks. 

“You're safe, Dean. Nothing can hurt you tonight.” Another kiss lands on the shell of his ear. “I won't leave you.”

Dean falls asleep under Cas’ attention, his promise paving the way for Dean's dreams that are full of twisted metal, blue eyes, and warm touches. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean throws himself into their Junior year. School comes easy and he’s popular, never settling into one group but getting along with everyone. It’s common knowledge that Cas is Dean’s best friend but it’s not as easy for him to blend in with the crowd. Cas is quiet, he carries an air of just not giving a fuck and people notice. 

When the school has soccer tryouts, Dean tries to convince Cas to go with him but he passes. He drives Dean and watches from the parking lot and Dean runs faster knowing Cas is there. When Dean makes the team, they celebrate by having a Star Wars movie marathon. Mary makes cookies and decorates them like soccer balls and fusses over them nonstop. They let her—of course they do. Ever since John died, Mary’s attention has been on her boys as if making sure they’re taken care of will keep her going. Maybe it will. Maybe in the way Dean uses every opportunity not to think of his dad, Mary does the same by doubling down on her parenting. 

Dean has practice every day after school and games once or twice a week. On practice days, Cas watches and waits from the parking lot but on game days, he picks up Sam from the middle school and they cheer for Dean together on the sidelines. Sometimes Dean sits out the second half and wishes he could go sit with Cas and Sam but his coach has rules and he has to stay with the team and watch the game. He ends up watching Cas help Sam with his homework, or Cas making Sam laugh as he explains exponents and how gravity works. Dean doesn’t know how, but Cas always knows when he’s staring, catching his eye and winking before turning back to Sam. 

The game ends and Cas and Sam greet him, tell him he played well, congratulate him on the two goals he scored. Cas takes Dean’s bag and slings it on his shoulder and smiles as Sam chatters on about his day. They’ll wait in Cas’ truck while Dean hits the locker room. He looks forward to the warmth of the cab and the promise of cheeseburgers, and rushes through his shower. He’s changing into his clothes, pulling Cas’ hoodie over his head when he hears it. 

“That Novak kid, what a freak. I hate that he just hangs around and stares. Probably imagining us all naked or some shit.” Dean’s blood runs cold hearing Gordon Walker talk about Cas like this. 

A few of the other guys laugh and it eggs Gordon on. “Fucking weirdo, right? Winchester should just give it up already, maybe he’ll go away.” 

Dean slams his locker shut and steps to Gordon. Blood roars in his ears and he sees red. “The fuck you just say, Walker?”

“Uh oh, don’t like when I talk about your boyfriend?” Gordon laughs, and looks around the locker room for support. The rest of the team quietly watches their interaction unfold. 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You need to shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Dean’s jaw hurts from how hard he’s clenching it. His hands are both fists at his side and he’s itching to drive one into Gordon’s face. 

Gordon leans in and drops his voice. “You gonna make me, Winchester?” 

It’s the only invitation Dean needs. His knuckle splits when he slams a fist into Gordon’s face but he doesn’t care. The sting makes Dean want to hit him harder. No one gets to talk about Cas like that. All of Dean’s rage, at his dad, at the bigots in this town, at every damn thing coming from Gordon’s mouth, all of it that’s been building inside, he uses to pummel the kid beneath him. Gordon gets a few hits in before their coach separates them, holding them both by their necks. 

Dean ends up with a split lip and a two day suspension for his trouble. 

Dean finally gets to the truck, and he refuses to tell Cas what the fight was about. If he knew Dean was fighting because of him, he would go after Gordon himself. Dean just wants to go home and tells him as much. 

It's not until later, after he’s sat through the lecture from his mom, after a phone call from his grandpa with a similar speech, after he’s wrapped up with Cas in their blanket, Cas holding an ice pack to his lip, that Dean can finally relax.  

“You’re still not going to tell me what you were fighting about?” 

Dean shakes his head. He settles deeper into the pillows and Cas’ arms. They tighten around him and Dean feels like he can breath again. 

“Was it about me?” Cas’ voice is quiet, hardly above a whisper and Dean stills. He gives himself away. 

“Damn it, Dean. You can’t fight every asshole in this town that doesn’t like me. I don’t give a shit what a troglodyte like Gordon Walker thinks of me. You shouldn’t either.” 

Dean shakes his head and tucks himself under Cas’ chin. “I’m not gonna let anyone talk about you the way he did, Cas. I don’t care how many times I get suspended.” Cas is his best friend and it’s Dean’s job to take care of him. He’ll do whatever he needs to make sure Cas is okay, even if Cas doesn’t agree. 

Cas sighs and presses his lips to Dean’s hair. He closes his eyes at Cas’ touch. 

“Stubborn bastard.”

Dean just nods in agreement. 

Cas skips school so Dean doesn’t have to serve his suspension alone. 

***

“So they’re totally gay for each other right? That’s what we’re supposed to take away from this?” 

Dean glances up from the tapes he’s sorting to see Gabriel leaning back against the counter, his eyes fixed on the TV above him. 

“I believe that is up to your personal interpretation, Gabriel. The subtext is very leading, however.” Cas is stocking the candy in front of the register. One of the perks of working at the video store is they get to watch whatever movies they want while they work, on top of unlimited free rentals. It’s Gabriel’s turn to pick and his choice was  _ Clerks _ . He has a penchant for Kevin Smith movies. 

Gabriel plucks a package of Red Vines from the display Cas is working on, ripping it open with his teeth. “Randall’s totally in love with Dante! Look at them! He rents porn for them to watch together, threatens women who will potentially hurt him, they spend all their time together, he constantly sticks up for him…” Gabriel chews his licorice with his mouth open and smirks, looking between Dean and Cas. “Prove me wrong, I’ll wait.” 

Cas rolls his eyes and grabs a piece of candy. “You’re disgusting.” 

“Was that a homophobic remark, little Cuz?” Gabriel presses a hand to his heart in jest. “I sure am surprised.” 

“I meant chewing with your mouth open, moron.” He grabs another piece of licorice and hands it to Dean. “It’s obvious they are best friends, look at how much shit they give each other. You don’t talk to just anyone like that.” He looks to Dean, expecting his agreement. 

“Obviously best friends. But the way Randall looks at Dante sometimes…” Dean shrugs. “Pretty sure he’s in love with the guy.” 

“See, Cassie.” Gabriel comes around the corner and slaps Dean on the back. “Dean-o here's the expert, aren’t you?” 

Dean flinches and throws an empty videotape box at Gabriel’s retreating back. Cas has his head tilted and a pinched look on his face that he directs at Dean once Gabriel skirts back around the counter. Dean shakes his head and gathers as many tapes as he can hold, walking quickly to the kids section to file them away. 

Fucking Gabriel. It’s not like Dean hasn't heard it before, people making jokes about him and Cas. It's the first conclusion everyone jumps to. And for good reason. He spends all his free time with Cas, he wears Cas’ hoodie almost every day but it's not like people  _ know _ that. It's just something he's always done. It’s comfort. 

Dean's thoughts stutter. No one knows about that but it's the first place Dean's brain goes, that damn hoodie and how Cas pulls it off himself and throws it to Dean, like he wanted to warm it up first or something. How crawling into bed with Cas and burrowing as he wraps their blanket around him, how all that feels like home. 

A crashing noise rips Dean from his thoughts and he notices the stack of Disney movies he tipped over. 

Cas is there in an instant, kneeling at his side and restacking movies, and Dean can't stop staring at his quick fingers. 

Cas snaps them in his face. 

“Earth to Dean. What the hell?”

Dean blinks and meets Cas’ eyes. 

“Ignore Gabriel, he's a jackal.” Cas looks over his shoulder to shoot a glare in Gabriel’s direction. “He never knows when to shut up.” 

“Cas, I—”

“It’s fine, Dean. Leave it.” Cas stands and makes his way back to the counter, the movies Dean was working on filed behind their boxes. He watches him go, watches him behind the counter ejecting  _ Clerks  _ from the VCR and replacing it with another tape. He’s seen him do it a million times, between the store and his own bedroom but now, now it’s different. 

Dean never thought an idiotic movie about a liquor store clerk and his best friend who’s in love with him would rock him to his core but here he is, completely bewildered by Cas and how in love with him he actually is. 

He’s in love with Cas. 

He’s in love with his best friend and he has no clue what to do with that information. 

He doesn’t have to think about it very long, distracted by Gabriel’s loud groan as the Star Wars theme blares out the speakers around the store. Dean’s eyes meet Cas’ and he laughs at the satisfied smirk dancing across his face. Gabriel hates Star Wars and Cas loves it and it’s often a point of contention between them. A very enjoyable point of contention, to Dean. 

Gabriel pulls a remote control from his pocket and turns all the TVs down at once. 

Gabriel holds his hands up to stop Cas’ protest. “Hold tight Cassie, I'll put your space opera back on in a minute. This is important.” He looks to make sure they're both paying attention. 

Dean rolls his eyes. 

“You fuckers are going out with me tonight.” Gabriel doesn't wait for them to agree. “Bonfire at Mike's. I'm not taking no for an answer.”

They've been through this before. Gabriel insists that they're too old to be watching movies “or whatever you get up to at night” and insists that they should be staying out late, like normal teenagers. After his revelation, Dean thinks it might not be a great idea to spend the night wrapped around Cas, at least until he figures out what the hell is happening to his brain. 

He raises an eyebrow at Cas who nods sharply. 

“Okay Gabriel, we're in.”

“Well holy shit, alert the media. The Bobbsy Twins are gonna come out and play with the big kids.” 

Cas flips him off and grabs the remote, turning up the volume on  _ Empire Strikes Back.  _ Luke is cutting open the tauntaun and Cas settles back against the counter to watch. Dean leans down on his elbows on the other side of the counter and spends the rest of their shift watching Cas. 

***

It surprises Dean how many people from school are at Mike's party. Their town isn't huge by any means and Dean grew up with these kids. Mike is even some kind of distant relative on his dad's side, something he only recently found out after his dad's funeral. 

He greets them when they arrive, tries to do some weird handshake slash fist bump thing which Dean rolls with, laughing. Cas just raises an eyebrow and takes the beer Mike is offering. Dean watches him sit next to the bonfire, not talking to anyone as he goes. 

He starts to make his way to Cas but doesn't get far before a few people stop him to say hello. Dean shoots the shit for a while, always looking over at Cas, wishing he was by his side. 

Dean's relaxed, talking to a few guys from the team, Benny and Garth. Benny plays sweeper and is one of the best soccer players Dean's ever seen. For being such a big guy, he's quick on his feet. Garth is their equipment manager and scorekeeper. He knows more about soccer than Dean ever thought possible. They're talking about their last game, an away game they won, Dean scoring three of the four goals that got them the victory, when Benny nudges him. 

“Hey brother, there goes Walker.”

Dean’s head snaps up to see that fuckwit Gordon beeline to Cas, venom in his eyes. They exchange a few words before Cas is on his feet, his hand fisted in Gordon's shirt. Dean runs over, Benny on his heels, and catches what Gordon is saying. 

“Fuck are you gonna do to me?” He pushes against Cas, his hands splayed across his chest and Dean sees red. 

“Get your fucking hands off him, Gordon!”

Cas lets go, like Dean was talking to him. 

“Oh yeah, now that your knight in shining armor is here…” Gordon's chest heaves. “Fucking fag.” He spits on the ground at Cas’ feet. 

Dean snaps. 

Before he can land a punch, Benny is swinging and Gordon is on the ground. 

“You're a real piece of shit, Walker. Why don't you get the fuck outta here.”

Dean stands next to Benny, and they both loom over Gordon who looks two seconds away from tears. The fight leaves Dean and he feels sorry for him, laying on his back, with no clue what a horrible person he is. 

Dean kicks the dirt by his leg. “Stay the fuck away from Cas. You're not worth enough to lick the bottom of his fucking boots. I won't tell you again, you fucking asshole.”

He turns to see if Cas is okay and notices that Cas is gone. Dean panics, sweeping his eyes across the crowd and not seeing Cas anywhere. He pushes through the ring of people watching their confrontation, not caring if he pisses anyone off. 

Thinking Cas might have left, Dean heads back to where they parked Cas’ truck. He sags in relief when he sees Cas standing next to the tailgate, his back to Dean, his shoulders shaking. 

He approaches slowly, not wanting to startle Cas. Dean stands next to him quietly, letting him collect himself. 

“Give me your keys.” Dean holds his hand out and waits as Cas digs into his pocket and drops them in his hand. He guides Cas by his elbow and opens the door, waiting as he climbs in. 

Dean drives and Cas is silent, staring out the window as they go. He drives them to the highest point in town, a grassy hill that overlooks the valley. They come up here sometimes, usually to escape another of John and Mary’s fights. Cas climbs out of the car on autopilot, standing quietly as Dean gets out and grabs the horse blanket he keeps on the back of the seat. 

Cas takes it from him and spreads it out on the grass, sitting down, legs stretched out in front of him. He reaches up for Dean's hand and when his warm fingers wrap around Dean's, Dean can't breathe. Cas tugs him down and Dean goes because how could he not. He's on his knees next to Cas, watching him pull a small bottle of whiskey and a crushed pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his hoodie. 

Cas takes a drink and Dean can't look away as his lips curl around the bottle. He passes it to Dean and he drinks, the burn of the alcohol warming him. Dean sighs as Cas fumbles with the pack of cigarettes, his hands shaking as he lights one. The smell of tobacco fills the air and Dean drops down, resting his head on Cas’ lap. He watches the smoke leave Cas’ mouth, a steady stream into the darkness. Cas leans back on his hands and drops his head back. Dean admires the long stretch of his neck and wonders what Cas sees when he looks up. 

“Do you think Stormtroopers receive any formal training before they're sent out to fight?”

Dean startles. That was not what he's expecting Cas to talk about. 

“I mean, we hear Obi-Wan say they're so precise but the truth is, they miss almost every shot unless it's up close.” Cas peers down at him, his head cocked, and Dean can't help but laugh. 

“Well, we should assume they get some kind of training right? How else could they expect to defeat the rebels?” Dean watches Cas take another drag off his cigarette. “I bet it's hard to see out of those helmets though.”

Cas smiles for the first time that night. 

“I think you might be right about that, Dean. Proper eyewear is important.”

Dean closes his eyes when Cas runs a hand through his hair. 

“Their entire uniform is a bit ridiculous, to be honest. They can't even run properly in it.” 

Dean nods in agreement. “Works out for the rebellion though.”

“I suppose so.” 

Cas looks thoughtful as he gazes out to the emptiness in front of them. Dean stares, eyes drifting over Cas’ face, and realizes he knows every curve, every line by heart. His is a face Dean's been staring at for years. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of it. 

Dean doesn't realize what he's doing until Cas’ cheek is cupped in his hand. Cas doesn't even look surprised when Dean leans in and kisses him softly on the lips. Cas kisses him back, his lips warm and soft and everything Dean's ever thought they might be. 

They've always been affectionate, never thinking it was wrong or weird. All that they've been through together, touch was always another way for them to communicate, especially when they didn't know what to say. Dean thinks it's appropriate that Cas is his real, honest to goodness, first kiss. 

He pulls away first. 

“Dean? What was that for?” Dean can see the worry in Cas’ eyes. It's a look he's all too familiar with and his chest aches. 

“Because you're my best friend Cas, and I feel like me when I'm with you, like I don't have to pretend.”

“You're pretending around the rest of them?”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, like I have to be cool and funny and not some fucked up kid whose dad preferred whiskey to his own family.” 

Cas studies his face for a bit; Dean’s used to it. When people first meet Cas, the staring tends to creep them out, but Dean knows that Cas is just working out the best way to express himself. Cas treats his thoughts like a gift, he wants them to be right and he wants the person he’s speaking to, to know he means what he says. Cas doesn’t talk to hear the sound of his own voice like a lot of people do. When Cas speaks, people should know how lucky they are, they should listen closely. 

“To be fair, Dean, whiskey is pretty damn good.”

Dean laughs, a full body reaction, the joy, the ease, the simplicity of how Cas makes him feel spreading from his head to his toes. 

“Asshole.” 

Dean kisses him again. Cas is smiling against his lips, and Dean leans into him. His hand is still on Cas’ cheek and Dean feels the muscles of his jaw working against his palm. Their kisses are more enthusiastic, both of them laughing when their teeth click against each other. Cas tastes like menthol and Dean can't get enough. He slides his hand down to Cas’ shoulder, digging his fingers into the muscles there. They’re strong and flex under Dean’s touch. 

Cas pulls away this time, his eyes skirting over Dean's face as he pushes some of Dean's hair off his forehead. He leans back on his hands again and goes back to looking at the stars. 

Dean grins and settles his head back into Cas’ lap, like they didn’t just potentially upend everything, or aren’t teetering on the edge of something deeper. Cas just lets Dean slide by, lets Dean breathe. 

He always has. Dean wonders if he always will. 

***

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

Two weeks after he kisses Cas under the stars, Dean tries to talk to him about it. He’s still not sure what it means and the one person who’d normally help him with this kind of thing is Cas. He stumbles over his words, has trouble spitting them out and Cas just smiles and presses their foreheads together. 

“It’s ok, Dean. You don’t have to.” Cas kisses him and lays his head down on Dean’s chest, pressing play on the movie they were watching—Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Cas’ pick. Ferris is racing through the neighborhood backyards and Cas is laughing. Dean feels the vibration everywhere and it's distracting him from telling Cas how he feels. He wants Cas to know, wants him to feel the same, wants Cas to love him the way he loves Cas. 

But how can Dean think about that when Cas is laughing in his arms, his breath warming Dean through his shirt. All his blood rushes south and he thinks things are going to get awkward fast if Cas realizes that Dean is hard. This must be how a panic attack feels, and whatever it's doing to him causes Cas to shift, his arm stretching across Dean, brushing up against his misbehaving dick. 

Cas freezes before pulling his arm back slightly, still rubbing against him. 

A whimper escapes from Dean's mouth and he clamps his free hand over his eyes. He's fucking mortified and waiting for Cas to run as far away as possible. 

“I'm so sorry, Cas, I don't know what the fu—”

“Shhh”

Dean bites his words back and tries to be as quiet as possible, his breath so shallow it almost hurts. 

Cas slides his hand across Dean's stomach, pressing his palm flat. His pinky finger is brushing against Dean's length and Dean might come from this alone. Cas is moving his finger up and down, like he's done this a million times, like  _ they've  _ done this a million times. He's still watching the movie, laughing at the funny parts, his finger still driving Dean crazy. 

Cas doesn't make a sound until the movie’s about to end and then he's quoting along with Ferris, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you might miss it.” 

He turns his head, his chin planted on Dean's chest. “Now that's a good closing line, don't you think? Iconic.” 

His finger is still maddening. 

Dean swallows audibly and nods. 

Cas slips his pinky finger around Dean's dick as he moves up to run his nose along Dean's neck. 

“Can I help you, Dean?” His lips rest in the crook of Dean's neck. “Please.”

It's a plea, not an offering. Dean hears it in Cas’ voice. 

The credits are rolling when Dean places his hand on top of Cas’ and squeezes. 

Dean thinks if he breathes, he'll shatter the world. 

Cas kisses his neck in thanks and moves his hand, slipping it between Dean and the elastic of his waistband. Cas’ hand is warm and his movements are sure as he strokes Dean. Sparks of light are bursting behind his eyes and Cas gently reminds him to breathe. 

“Are you—is this ok?” His hand slows.

Dean wants to wash the uncertainty from Cas’ voice but he’s choking on his words, stuttering out a reply. “Yeah—yes, Cas please, don’t stop.”

The television is showing static and when Cas’ teeth drag against his jaw, Dean comes, a hot sticky mess coating his stomach and Cas’ fist. Dean lies still as Cas cleans them with his t-shirt, tucking Dean back into his sleep pants before he curls into him. 

Dean can’t wrap his mind around what happened because all his brain is doing is flashing bursts of ideas at him;  _ more, good, again.  _ He has enough sense to know that he should reciprocate and he offers Cas as much.

“Cas? I can…” Dean trails his fingers along Cas’ shoulder and hopes he won’t make him say the words out loud. 

He receives a muffled noise in response and a shake of Cas’ head against his shoulder. Dean nudges him and Cas’ lifts his head, a sleepy grin on his face. 

“Bedtime, Dean.” 

“You’re sure?” Dean feels uneasy. Why would Cas do that for him if he doesn’t expect anything in return? He isn’t sure how to feel. 

“Positive.” Cas gives Dean’s shoulder a few kisses before settling back down, and Dean lays in the dark, listening to the sound of Cas breathing next to him. 

His room is still dark when Dean wakes up to a warm breeze across his face and the smell of cigarettes. His bed is empty and he frowns until he realizes that Cas didn’t leave. He’s leaning out Dean’s open window, wearing only sleep pants, a smoke between his fingers. Dean watches him take a few drags, appreciating the long lines of his back and the curve of his ass. His hair is wild and glowing blue in the moonlight and Dean thinks he’s beautiful. 

Dean gets off the bed, and Cas turns his head slightly at the creak of the bed springs. He stays still, continuing to smoke and gaze at the house he used to live in, now sitting dark. 

“You know, I can’t remember any joy in that house.” 

Dean’s heart skips a beat and he lays a hand on Cas’ back. 

“The only time I was ever happy there was when I was with you.” 

Dean doesn’t have the right words to give to Cas so he responds by kissing each knob of his spine, working his mouth up to the back of Cas’ neck, sliding one hand around his hips. Cas straightens in his embrace and guides Dean’s hand to where his dick is tenting his pants. The pajamas fall to the floor easily as Dean takes Cas in his hand, his open mouth pressed against the curve of Cas’ neck. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and moves, collecting each gasp and moan Cas gives him. 

He knows this isn’t normal, trading hand jobs with your best friend but he doesn’t care. All that matters is Cas and the sounds he’s making, and how hard he is in response to Dean’s touch. 

They can sort the rest of it out later.

When Dean bites down on Cas’ shoulder, he comes, a breathy sigh falling from his lips. His head falls back onto Dean’s shoulder and Dean nuzzles his throat, letting him come down. The cigarette he’s holding is burned down to the filter and Cas flicks it away. Dean watches the glowing ember until it disappears in the grass. 

When he wakes up in the morning, Cas is already gone. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Credit:  
> [Fooled Around and Fell in Love - Starship](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyMMEmwFQUE)

Senior year means college applications and apparently, a conversation about his future. Dean comes home from school one day to his mom and Grandpa Samuel sitting at their kitchen table waiting for him. Sam and Cas take one look and detour upstairs and Dean wants nothing more than to follow them.

“Hey son, have a seat. There’s a few things we need to discuss.” His Grandpa is all business and Dean takes a seat across from him. Mary gets up and busies herself with fixing him a sandwich, setting it down as his Grandpa gears up for his speech.

“You’re graduating this year Dean, and it’s time we talk about your future. You know we’ve been asking Mary to move to the ranch since your dad passed and it looks like that’s gonna happen once you graduate.”

Dean is surprised and Mary looks nervous. She always said they would stay in their house but it seems like her father has finally worn her down.

“Now, you’ll be away at school so this shouldn’t be a big deal to you. It’s what's best for everyone.”

Dean figures it doesn’t really matter since he’ll be gone, not to mention he’s been expecting this for years anyways, so he just shrugs in response.

“Do you have any thoughts about your future you’d like to share?”

At least his Grandpa is pretending he doesn’t already have an idea for Dean’s entire life. He knows better. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it but it’s always been implied that he’s meant to go work on the ranch, and eventually run it. Carry on the family business and all that.

Dean clears his throat. “I’ve been looking into some programs for mechanical engineering but I haven’t really made any decisions.”

“Mechanical engineering would be admirable, no doubt. However, I’d like you to consider applying for some colleges that offer agriculture degrees.” His Grandpa looks at him, full of expectation. Dean wants him to work for it so he just sits and waits for him to continue.

Samuel purses his lips. “Dean, I want you to take over the ranch. It’s time I start thinking about  retirement and I don’t have anyone else I trust to hand the business to. I don’t think I have to explain how important this is to our family.”

Dean hears a creak and a shushing noise and he knows Sam and Cas are listening from the stairs. A glance from his Grandpa and Dean knows he’s aware they have an audience, too.

He turns his attention back to Dean. “I want you to think about this very seriously Dean, we’re talking about the future of this family. You may not think this is fair now, but I know how important family is to you. Sometimes we have to be willing to make sacrifices.”

Dean straightens in his chair and braces himself.

“I know how expensive college is and I know money is tight but I want you to know that if you choose to follow my wishes, I’ll pay for your schooling. I’d consider it a fine investment in your future and the future of this family.”

Well, fuck. Dean knows there’s no money for college. Mary works part time at the library and Dean isn’t stupid, that doesn’t get their bills paid. All his checks from the video store go to his mom, despite her protests and it’s all he can do to help support their family. Anything John left behind has been spent and they get by because his grandparents help support them.

Declining Samuel’s offer isn’t a choice Dean has. If he does, his Grandpa will focus on Sam and Sam deserves better. Sam wants to be a lawyer, which is more than Dean can say for himself.

Before he can answer, his Grandpa speaks again. “I’ll give you some time to think about it, son. I put together a list of schools that have great ranch management programs, your mama has it. Take a look and let me know what you decide.” He stands. “You’re a good kid and you’re going to be a great man, Dean. I have faith you’ll make the right choice here.”

With that, he kisses Mary on the cheek and leaves out the back door.

His mom won’t meet his eye when he turns towards her. “Dean, honey, you know I want you to be happy and if this isn’t what you want—”  

“It’s fine, mom. He’s not wrong, it’s on me to take care of you and Sam now.” She looks at him sharply. “Plus free college. Can’t beat that right?” He smiles thinly and takes the sandwiches she made for Sam and Cas, kissing her on the cheek before he leaves the kitchen.

Sam is gone but Cas is still at the top step, a blank look on his face as he watches Dean climb the stairs.

“You don’t have to do this, Dean.”

“Yeah Cas, I do.”

***

They don’t talk about it but they apply for colleges together anyway, Dean dutifully applying to every school on his Grandfather’s list. Cas doesn’t push him but when he keeps finding applications for schools with mechanical engineering programs, Dean knows who put them there.

They end up in the trash because there’s no point in trying.

Between school and all the applications, Dean doesn’t have much time to think about how things are between him and Cas. It’s not weird, after the things they did, but things are different. When they’re at school, it's business as usual: Dean jumping between cliques and Cas on the fringes. He’s been withdrawing more and more, skipping school and generally not giving a fuck. He’ll make like he’s going but when Dean gets out of the truck, Cas  stares at the school with a far away look in his eyes and Dean knows he won’t get out. Cas will be there to pick him up and he never misses work but Dean can’t help but wonder what he does all day when he doesn’t go to school.

It pisses Dean off but he gathers Cas’ homework for him anyway and brings it to him. He’s pretty sure Cas doesn’t do it, either way.

When they’re alone, they’re always touching. That isn’t new but there’s a lingering air about it, that it means something Dean is too scared to confront. Dean doesn't want to tip the scales so when Cas grabs his hand and holds it while he drives, or when he kisses Dean gently in the dark, he takes what Cas gives and lives for the moments they’re together.

Cas still won’t talk about it when Dean tries.

He gets it and he doesn’t fault Cas for wanting to keep things between them. People are assholes and between living in their backwards Texas town and people still freaked out by the AIDS epidemic from the 80’s, being seventeen and _out_ just isn’t how it’s done. He couldn’t care less what people think of him but Dean knows it’s not that easy for Cas. Dean would happily tear apart anyone who looked twice at either of them but he would get away with that.

Cas wouldn’t.

Dean’s tried to get Cas to be more social with him but it’s a constant struggle. The only thing he enjoys is game nights at Charlie’s and even those are few and far between with their work schedules. Dean doesn’t give up which is why it’s a big surprise when Cas agrees to go with him to the State Fair.

Mary used to take them every year when they were kids but it stopped after John died. When Benny suggested they go in a big group, Dean knew he wouldn’t want to go unless Cas came with him. Gabe brings a bottle of tequila and it gets passed around when they get to the fair. The parking lot is dark and the perfect place for them to drink. Dean has no idea where Gabriel gets his supply but he isn't dumb enough to ask.

It's almost an hour before they decide to actually go inside and everyone is drunk. Dean's lips are tingling and Cas is glued to his side, talking to him about all the rides they used to go on as kids. His hand slipped up the back of Dean's shirt awhile ago and he's rubbing circles into the small of Dean's back.

Dean is melting.

When everyone starts for the entrance gates, Dean holds back, grabbing Cas by the belt buckle. Cas slips both hands under Dean's shirt, sliding his hands up Dean's back.

He leans in. “Come on, take me on the ferris wheel, Dean.” He laces their fingers together and tugs Dean along behind him.

Dean stares at the back of Cas’ head as they walk through the darkness, the lights of the fair glowing around him. Cas’ hand is warm and safe and Dean wonders what their friends would think if they saw them.

Cas lets go of Dean's hand before they reach them. The broken connection reminds Dean he doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

“You two lovebirds ready?” Fucking Gabriel.

Dean snickers when Cas flips his cousin off before buying tickets for him and Dean. He beams and holds up a strip of red tickets. “For the rides.”

Dean gets lost in Cas’ smile. It's been so long—too long—since he's seen his best friend smile like this. He throws an arm around Cas’ shoulder, hoping to absorb some of his enthusiasm.

This is Dean's favorite way to walk with Cas. He likes to lean over and whisper in Cas’ ear and he loves when Cas does it back. No one bats an eye at their closeness.

The tequila is keeping them warm and Dean is close to overheated when Cas leans in and his lips brush against Dean's earlobe. “Ferris wheel?”

Dean nods his head and calls ahead to Benny, “Let's check out the ferris wheel!”

Dean lets the sounds of the fair surround him. Kids screaming and laughing, the low hum of the crowd, a tinny piano melody. Cas laughing. It all fades away when Cas leans back into his ear, his breath warm.

“Dean.”

He blinks and turns his head towards Cas’ voice.

“You ok? Lisa's been trying to get your attention.”

Dean pulls back a bit, shaking his head. He looks to where Cas is pointing and sure enough, Lisa Braeden is looking at him hopefully.  She's cute, a year younger than them, and has a crush on Dean like no other.

“Sorry Lisa, what was that?”

“I asked if you'd like to go on the ferris wheel with me.”

“Oh.” Oh. Dean lets his arm slip off Cas’ shoulder. Cas steps to hand over their tickets to the attendant, glancing at Dean as he does. Dean feels colder. “Maybe later? Me n’ Cas are gonna go.”

The disappointment on her face is clear.

Dean barely hears her say okay before he's climbing into the basket next to Cas. The ride  starts and Cas winds their fingers together again. He doesn't kiss Dean until they're at the very top. Dean doubts he'll ever come down after that.

They're almost to the end of the ride when Cas speaks.

“You can take Lisa on the ferris wheel, if you want.”

“Nah. Nothin’ could top this ride anyways.”

Cas squeezes his hand and doesn't let go until they have to climb out again.

They catch up to their group, finding everyone circled around a basket of French fries and talking about prom. Dean grabs a handful of fries and passes half to Cas.

They haven't talked about the dance. Part of Dean wants to go, round out the whole high school experience. The other part would rather spend the night watching Indiana Jones movies with Cas. He looks at his friend and Cas is biting his bottom lip and staring out into the neon lights.

“What about you brother, thinking of asking anyone special?” Benny nudges him.

“Oh um, I don't know.” Dean can see Lisa and that hopeful look is on her face again. He flicks his eyes away. “Thinking about just blowing it off.”

The group groans.

“You can't, come on Dean!” Charlie actually looks pissed.

“Relax, nothin’s concrete ok?” He goes to pass Cas another fry and realizes he's gone.

Fuck. Dean excuses himself and goes looking for him. When they were kids, they would spend hours in the livestock tents, looking at all the animals and playing in the petting zoo for as long as they could. Cas loved the rabbits the most and that’s where Dean finds him now, sitting inside the rabbit pen, a big, brown floppy eared rabbit in his lap. Dean watches him stroke one of the rabbit’s ears.

Dean leans on the railing of the pen, arms folded. “You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in there.”

Cas looks at the ‘Keep Out’ sign he’s sitting under and shrugs. He looks back down at the bunny. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna tell.” Dean doesn’t think twice before he climbs in the pen and sits next to Cas. A white, long haired rabbit sniffs him curiously and he scoops it into his lap, running his hands over the soft fur. “Don’t say sorry to me, Cas. No reason.”

“But there is, Dean.” Cas’ voice is soft and it makes Dean’s heart beat harder. “I just—everyone was talking about prom and—I had to get out of there.”

“Why? Do you want to go?” Dean rubs between the rabbit’s ears and tries not to look at Cas. “We can, if you want.”

“What, together?” Cas’ tone is sharp and Dean looks up to wide, blue eyes.

“Sure.” Dean hopes his face isn’t betraying him.

Cas narrows his eyes. “I don’t need a pity invite, ok?”

“Dude, no! That’s not—what the fuck, Cas? You think I’d do that? I don’t even want to go!”

“Then why—”  

“I thought you got all freaked out because you wanted to go.” Dean rubs his hand over his mouth. The rabbits squirm to escape from their raising voices.

“You just said you don’t want to go and yet, you asked me? That’s the very definition of a pity invite, Dean.” Cas rolls his eyes.

“It’s not!”

“Then what would you call it?”

“Fuck, Cas, it’s because—You’re my best friend, idiot. You want to go to prom, I’ll go too, ok?”  Dean corrects himself before he says something stupid.

Cas plays with the hay next to Dean’s foot. “I don’t want to go to prom.”

“Then what the hell are we arguing about?”

Cas is suddenly in Dean’s personal space, the smile back on his face. “Nothing, I guess.” His kiss takes Dean by surprise, considering they’re in a brightly lit tent where just about anyone could see them. The kiss is soft and quick, then Cas is standing and holding his hand out to pull Dean to his feet. “What should we do instead?”

Dean stands but doesn’t let go, rubbing his thumb over Cas’ knuckles. He shrugs. “Whatever we want, I guess.”

Cas smiles the rest of the night and Dean doesn’t even care when their friends look disappointed about prom. His mom is a different story and she lays the guilt on thick. She lets up when he reminds her that Sam will probably go to all the school dances he can so she’ll get her pictures then. Sam punches him in the arm but doesn’t disagree. She seems satisfied when he promises to wear a tie to graduation. It’s required but she doesn’t need to know that.

On the night of prom, Dean picks up a pizza and stops at the video store to grab all three Indiana Jones movies. He tries to get in and out without Gabriel noticing him but fails miserably.

“Yo, Dean-o! This is how you wow your prom date? With Harrison Ford?” Gabriel is smirking at him.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know we’re not going.”

“And why is that? My adorable little cousin not good enough to be seen with?” Gabriel’s smugness has an edge to it that Dean isn’t comfortable with. He doesn’t like what he’s implying. “Don’t want to scare the stiffs with all the gay?”

“Fuck you, Gabriel. It’s none of your business,” Dean says with as much venom as he can muster. How fucking dare Gabriel—  

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, bucko. It _is_ my business. You fuck with Cassie, I’ll fuck you up. Got it?” Gabriel seems to have forgotten the concept of personal space, and that Dean is a few inches taller than him. He also seems to have forgotten that while he’s been out fucking around, Dean’s been the one there for Cas through everything. Dean has no qualms with reminding him.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Gabriel. Not when it comes to Cas.” Dean takes a step towards the door. “I’ve been there for him every moment he’s ever needed me, and I don’t remember seeing you there.” Dean narrows his eyes. “So again, mind your business.”

Dean leaves without looking back.

He’s fuming as he climbs in Cas’ truck. Gabriel has no idea what the hell he’s talking about and it pisses him off anytime he gets into their business. Sure, Dean didn’t want to go to the dance but neither did Cas so fuck Gabriel for assuming it was because Dean didn’t want them to be seen together. Nothing could be further from the truth.

The drive to Cas’ is short. Dean’s driving his truck because someone had to pick up the food and Cas had some shit to do for his mom at the house. When Dean left his house, Cas told him he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in the glove box and asked him to bring it in, knowing his mom would be at work by the time Dean got back.

That’s how Dean found the envelopes. A whole stack, all addressed to Castiel Novak III, every single one a rejection letter. Eight different schools in all. Dean shuffles through them, shocked.

Some of them were a month old, some from this week. How can Cas keep this a secret from him?

Dean received an acceptance letter for the Ag program from the University of Wisconsin a few days before and was waiting to find out which schools Cas got into before telling him. The day the letter came, his grandpa wired them the first year’s tuition, claiming they had one of the best programs available, essentially sealing Dean's fate.

He realizes he’s been staring at the stack of letters for awhile and shoves them back in the glove box before Cas comes looking for him. Dean doesn’t understand how this could be happening. Cas is smart, he pulled good grades when they were younger but Dean has no idea what his grades look like now. He grabs the bottle and the pizza, slipping the plastic bag with the movies onto his arm, and goes inside through Cas’ room, the sliding door left open for him.

Dean’s not going to bring up the letters until Cas does. As much as it bothers him that Cas kept this from him, Dean knows Cas will tell him when he’s ready.

He finds Cas at the kitchen sink, up to his elbows in dish soap, a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. His dark hair is sticking up every which way and Dean wants to get his hands in it. Cas holds the cigarette in his teeth and grins at Dean.

“You know your mom hates when you smoke inside.”

“Which is why you’re not going to tell her.”

Dean rolls his eyes and pulls a can of coke from the fridge, filling two glasses with ice and whiskey, adding a splash of soda to each. He goes to Cas, plucking the smoke from his lips. Dean takes a drag and blows the smoke out the window, stubbing it out before he helps Cas finish the dishes.

Something about the nicotine and menthol makes him think about tasting Cas. It’s the only reason he ever smokes.  

By the time they finish _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , the pizza is gone and they are two jack and cokes in, well on their way to being drunk. The rejection letters are the last thing on his mind.

“Are you seriously proposing that Indiana Jones was irrelevant to his own story, Dean? Even for you, this is absurd.”

“I’m just saying, those Nazi bastards would have found the ark of the covenant with or without him.”

“Yes, Spielberg just decided to make his main character of a planned trilogy completely obsolete to his own story. Makes perfect sense.” Cas shoves at him with a grin and Dean slides off the couch in slow motion, sprawling on his back between the couch and the coffee table, laughing the whole way down. When he tries to sit up, he realizes how drunk he is and falls back to the floor.

Dean stares up at the popcorn ceiling, bits of glitter glinting from the light from the television. All the other lights in the room are off and as he’s looking for shapes in the drywall, Cas looms over him, setting another drink on the coffee table.

“Why are you still on the floor?”

“There’s glitter on your ceiling.”

Cas lays down on the couch, settling on his stomach parallel to Dean. “You ready to start _Temple of Doom_?”

“Mmmm nope,” Dean replies, with a pop of his lips.

“And what would you like to do instead?” Cas licks his lips as he stares at Dean’s mouth. Dean bites his lip in response.

“Let’s go outside.” Dean holds his hands up and makes a grabbing motion. “Help me up.”

Cas rolls his eyes but indulges Dean, standing and grabbing his hands. Dean’s head spins as he lifts himself up, stumbling into Cas. One firm arm wraps around his waist and he presses into Cas, breathing in the smell of nicotine and green apple. Cas waits until Dean is steady on his feet to let him go.

Dean grabs his drink and follows Cas to his room. Before he opens the slider, Cas grabs a hoodie from under his pillow and throws it at Dean. He pulls it on, the familiar scent of Cas, of _home_ hitting him in the face. Dean wonders if Cas has the same reaction when he crawls into Dean’s bed, if there’s something about him that Cas reacts to.

Cas is already building the fire when Dean joins him outside, a lounge chair open by the fire pit. Dean settles in it as Cas lights the fire. His hands are quick and sure in their movement, and Dean only looks away from the flames when the light starts to hurt his eyes. Cas smirks at him when he lights a cigarette on the flames, blowing the white smoke into the dark sky.

Dean spreads his legs open, one on each side of the chair, and waits for Cas to join him. He frowns when Cas walks past him, back to the house, only smiling again when music starts to play. He tries to remember how many nights they’ve spent like this, under the stars, listening to records and wound together on this exact chair.

Anticipation builds in Dean’s gut. He didn’t plan for anything but never stopped his thoughts from straying to where he wishes the night would go, to all the ways Cas might touch him. His dick is already betraying him and he adjusts himself before Cas comes back out. He needs to pull it together. This isn’t a date, it’s a mutual agreement to avoid social interaction.

Dean can’t think of anyone else he’d rather be with though and that has to stand for something. For a moment, Dean thinks how handsome Cas would look in a tux but he quickly shakes the thought, knowing neither of them really wanted that.

A tug on his hair breaks Dean from his thoughts as Cas settles between his legs, cross-legged and facing him. He has the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand and two shot glasses, a sly grin on his face.

He pours two shots. “Truth or Dare?”

Dean is unamused. “Really?”

“Yup. If you don’t answer the question or do the dare, you have to take a shot.” Cas grins wide and any resistance Dean had melts away. “If you’re interested in getting drunk, I’d say the odds are good.”

“Never tell me the odds, Cas.” Dean smirks. “Ok, lets play.”

“All right, truth or dare, Dean?”

Dean weighs his options. Knowing Cas, he’ll be running through the gym naked if he chooses Dare.

“Dare.”

Cas throws his head back and laughs. “I dare you to strip down and run through the gym naked. Everyone wanted you to go to prom, right?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Gimme the damn shot, Cas.”

Cas pours two shots and takes his with a wink.

“Our friends wanted you to go to the dance too, you know.” Dean takes his shot, the whiskey burning as it goes down.

Cas snorts. “Yeah, right.” He shakes his head and drops his eyes to the space between them. “No one cared if I went or not, trust me.” He spins around, settling back against Dean’s chest. “They’re your friends anyways.”

Dean scowls. “That’s not true.” It’s not. Benny and Charlie ask after Cas all the time and anytime they’re all together, everyone gets along fine.

Cas tips his head back to look at Dean. He’s gorgeous; the fire light dancing across his cheeks makes Dean’s chest tighten. “Do you wish you’d gone? Would have been one of these big high school traditions you love so much.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to go without you.”

“So if I had wanted to go, we’d be at the dance right now?”

“I guess so.”

“Would you have danced with me, Dean?” Cas’ voice is quiet as he stares into the flames.

He studies Cas’ profile. “Yeah, yeah I would have,” Dean breathes out. His stomach flips when Cas gets up and holds his hand out. Dean lets Cas pull him off the chair and into his arms.

“You laugh and I’m shoving you into the fire,” Cas huffs into his ear. He starts moving them awkwardly, swaying back and forth, Starship’s “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” playing from inside the house. Dean feels the grass under his bare feet, the heat from the fire, and the weight of the moment on his shoulders.

“That’s not fair. We’re dancing to Jefferson Starship.”

“Not true, it’s just Starship. They couldn’t use the full name after they broke up.”

“You know too much about that crappy band, Cas.” Dean drops his head to Cas’ shoulder as his arms wrap around Dean’s waist. “Elvin Bishop kills that guitar solo though.”

“Now who knows too much about that crappy band?” Cas is rubbing his nose against the space behind Dean’s ear and before he can give his rebuttal, Cas’ mouth is on his, one hand clutching Dean’s left shoulder and the other sliding up the back of his shirt, pressing them together.

Dean kisses him back, every sense he has tunneling into this feeling, into the burn under his skin that makes him ache for Cas. _Since I met you baby, love’s got a hold on me. I fooled around and fell in love._ Dean barely notices as Cas tugs him towards the house and through the sliding door. He frowns when the back of Cas’ knees hit his bed and he sits, his mouth leaving Dean’s. The cool air hits his spit slicked lips and Dean chases their connection, settling in Cas’ lap and kissing him again.

He pushes his hands into Cas’ unruly hair, the silky strands gliding through his fingers. He pulls at it, making it wilder, and he leans back to look at his handiwork, grinning at the result.

Cas rolls his eyes. “Are you satisfied?”

Dean purses his lips and gives Cas’ hair another tug, tilting his head. “Almost.”

He yelps when Cas flips him over and onto his back, pressing his body down on top of Dean’s.

Cas is holding himself over Dean and looking down at him, his gaze so intense Dean thinks it might light him on fire. He surges up and nips at Cas’ kiss swollen bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth. Maybe it’s the whiskey, maybe it’s Cas himself but Dean wants to make him feel good.

Dean pulls him down and forgets to think about what this means, about how he feels, and how bad he wants to tell the world how much he loves Cas. All he feels is falling, his thoughts spiralling out of control when Cas slips his hand under his shirt and trails his fingers across Dean’s skin.

Dean lets Cas pull off his sweatshirt, his t-shirt going with it. He bites his lip as Cas takes his own shirt off and he forgets how to breathe when Cas slides his chest up Dean’s body to get back to his mouth. He shuts his eyes tight when Cas’ tongue slips past his lips.

His mouth tastes like whiskey and unspoken promises.

Dean loses all track of time as they kiss. All he can focus on is the slide of Cas’ slick lips and every inch of his warm skin rubbing against Dean’s. He startles when Cas pulls away to hover over him. His blue eyes are almost black and he’s trying to catch his breath before he speaks.

“Tell me to stop, Dean. If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.”

Dean answers him by sliding his hand around Cas’ neck and pulling them back together. Cas moans into his mouth and Dean is lost.

Their sweatpants hide nothing and Dean gasps when Cas grinds himself down into his lap. Dean moves on instinct, one leg hooking around Cas’ thighs to lock them together. Gasps of air escape from Cas’ mouth every time their mouths pull apart, allowing both of them to breathe. Dean lets his hands wander, lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of Cas’ sweats. Cas’ skin is so fucking soft.

He pauses. Waits. Runs his fingers under the elastic.

“Dean. Please.” Cas sounds wrecked.

He pushes the sweats down as far as he can reach, abandoning them to slide his hands back up and over Cas’ ass. Cas huffs out his impatience and he wiggles until his pants are off. He yanks at Dean’s sweats and Dean lifts his hips and uses his feet to push them the rest of the way. Cas goes to look down and Dean leans up to see for himself, crashing their foreheads together.

“Fuck!”

“Son of a bitch.”

Dean falls back to the bed, laughing at the absurdity of them knocking their heads together at this exact moment. Cas is rubbing his forehead and laughing into Dean’s mouth and fuck, it’s the best moment of his life. He’s still smiling as Cas pins him with his gaze again and Dean is suddenly aware that Cas is naked and on top of him and holy shit, this is really happening.

Cas starts to move, his dick sliding against Dean’s and it’s nothing Dean has ever felt before. He groans and Cas grins, dipping his head to lick a long stripe up Dean’s neck. He watches in wonder as Cas licks his open palm before guiding his hand between them, gripping them both in his hand.

Dean can’t stop his body from arching up into Cas’ hand as his head presses back into the bed. Cas’ mouth is on his exposed neck, licking, sucking, kissing him over and over. The heat in Dean’s belly grows and he’s coming undone. He babbles a slur of curses and Cas’ name.

Cas moves and sucks Dean’s earlobe into his mouth, whispering, “tell me when you’re close, Dean.” The breathlessness of his voice lights Dean up.

“Kiss me, Cas. Please, kiss me.” Dean can barely finish his request before Cas is consuming his mouth. Cas’ pace is close to frantic as he jacks them and Dean can feel himself toppling over the edge. With the last bit of coherency, he bites out the words Cas is waiting for.

“Gonna come, oh fuck.”

It’s bewildering when Cas’ weight leaves him and Dean is coming the moment the heat of Cas’ mouth wraps around his cock. Sparks burst behind his eyes and every nerve in his body is screaming. Dean is still coming when Cas pulls off him. He grips Cas’ hips as Cas moves to his knees, stripping his cock. Praise washes over him, “you’re so beautiful, Dean,” and Cas comes all over Dean’s stomach, shouting Dean’s name.

Cas collapses onto the bed next to him, his breath harsh in the quiet room. Dean feels boneless and he lolls his head to look at his best friend, who’s already staring back at him, his eyes hooded and a grin on his face. A laugh bubbles up Dean’s chest and explodes from his lips. Cas’ smile is wicked and he turns his body towards Dean and drags two fingers through the mess on his stomach.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Cas quirks his eyebrow and keeps his eyes locked on Dean as he brings his hand up to suck his middle finger into his mouth. “Mmmm did you have strawberries for lunch?”

“Oh my god, fuck off.” Dean did have strawberries with lunch, actually.

“Come on, don’t you want to taste it?” Cas is teasing him now, hovering his fingers over Dean’s mouth.

“If I do, will you go get us a towel?”

“Deal.” The word is barely past Cas’ lips before Dean grabs his wrist and sucks on both fingers. Dean can taste a hint of strawberry. It’s not as bad as he was imagining. He bites down not so gently when Cas pulls away.

“Fucker.” Cas rolls off the bed and leaves the room. Dean enjoys watching him go.

Dean doesn’t have time to process before Cas is back and wiping him down with a warm washcloth. He throws it across the room and grabs their sweats that are bunched at the end of the bed. Dean pulls his on, staring at Cas doing the same. Cas ducks back outside and Dean watches him douse the rest of the fire and grab the bottle of whiskey and their glasses. He splashes some of the amber liquid in them and passes one to Dean.

Dean scoots over as Cas sits on the bed next to him, his back to Dean as he lights a cigarette.

“Kind of a cliche, don’t you think?”

Cas flashes him his middle finger and Dean pinches his hip. He leans back against the pillows and runs his fingers across Cas’ back. Cas leans into his touch. Dean slides his hand up to Cas’ shoulder and pulls. Cas settles down next to Dean with no resistance, let’s Dean drape his arm around his shoulders. He passes Dean the cigarette and Dean takes a drag, blowing the smoke straight into the air before passing it back.

They’re quiet. Crickets singing outside and the sound of paper burns everytime Cas takes a drag.

“Truth or dare, Cas?”

Cas takes his time answering. Dean waits.

“Truth.” He sounds so sure of himself.

God, Dean doesn't want to ask. He’s so fucking scared of the answer, he almost changes his mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the letters?”

Cas sits up and glares at him.

Dean is suddenly exhausted. “They were in the glovebox. With the Jack.” He gestures weakly at the bottle on Cas’ nightstand.

“And you thought they were yours to read?” Cas’ voice is cold.

“Yeah. Actually.” Dean furrows his brow when Cas scoffs at him. “It wasn’t like I was snooping. And when did we start keeping secrets?” Never, in all the years of their friendship has Cas ever kept anything from Dean.

Cas’ sigh is heavy, like it weighs a thousand pounds. “I wasn’t—look, one rejection letter is bad enough. But eight?” His shoulders slump. “I only applied to ten schools, you know that.”

“Okay, so one of those will take you.” Relief starts to seep through Dean’s bones.

“Probably not.” Cas lights another cigarette with shaky hands. “At least my counselor doesn’t think so. Due to my,” Cas pauses to use air quotes. “‘Poor academic standing.’ Whatever the fuck that means.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I told you Cas, all that fucking skipping.” Dean is shaking his head but stops when Cas’ head drops forward. “Sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.” He knows yelling about it won’t change a damn thing now.

“What about you?” Cas turns one knee towards Dean. The ashtray he’s been flicking into gets put on Dean’s stomach. Cas gives him a pointed look, making it clear Dean is to answer if Cas is gonna let him slide on the nagging.

“Texas said no. Same day, letter from Wisconsin, pleased to offer me admission. Samuel wired them the tuition within the hour.” His smile is thin. “Go Badgers.” Cas holds out the cigarette and Dean leans up to take a drag. He blows a few smoke rings and lays back down.

Cas takes the place of the ashtray when the cigarette is gone. His hair tickles Dean’s bare stomach so he cards his hand through it, rubbing Cas’ scalp.

“You don’t want to go.”

“Nope.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. “Then why are you going?”

“Because when someone offers to pay, you pretty much gotta do what they say. Plus, when I’m running the ranch, I can put Sam through school so he can do whatever he wants.” Dean sighs. “One of us should be able to do that.”

Cas’ hand finds its way into his. Dean feels like he’s holding on for dear life.

“I wish I could give you what you want, Dean.” Cas’ thumb is rubbing the inside of Dean’s palm and Dean thinks he may cry. How do you tell your best friend that everything you want is right here in this moment?

“We should just run away.” Dean doesn’t. Rambling something ridiculous seems to be the better route to go. He’s an idiot.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Dean.” At that, Cas stands. Dean feels the loss instantly. The weight of everything they aren’t saying to each other feels like a ton of bricks, settling on his chest.

When Cas comes back from locking up, Dean’s already in bed, the covers open. Cas stares at him from the doorway before he flips the light off. He’s crawling into bed and he’s so warm, tucked under Dean’s chin and all Dean can smell is that goddamn green apple shampoo and fucking hell.

It doesn’t take much for Dean to haul Cas up by one arm, crashing their mouths together. Cas’ tongue is swiping against his and all he can taste is that last cigarette Cas smoked and Dean can’t get enough. Cas’ hand is in his hair and he’s pulling, pulling, and Dean can’t breathe. When Cas grabs his shoulder, it’s like an electric shock runs through him and he gasps, breaking the seal of their lips.

Cas is breathless, he pants into the curve of Dean’s neck. “How long?”

“What.” What are words?

“When do you leave, Dean?”

God damn it. He won’t lie. Dean grips Cas’ chin and forces it up, making sure Cas is looking into his eyes. “I have a summer internship. Paid. Friend of Samuel’s.” He kisses Cas, a gentle press of their lips together. “I leave one week after graduation.”

Cas’ eyes flutter shut. “One week.” He licks his lips. “He stole our entire summer, too?”

Dean’s heart splinters. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I just found out last night, I didn’t wanna ruin this. I was gonna tell you tomorrow, fuck, Cas—”  

“Just stop, please. I can’t—okay?” Cas’ eyes are still shut and his brow is furrowed. Dean tilts his head up and tries to kiss the lines smooth. “Can you just—can we just—”  

Dean seals their lips back together, and Cas relaxes into him. He settles next to Dean, both of them turning to face each other where they lay. Neither want to separate so they’re sharing a pillow and Cas’ leg is slotted between Dean’s. Cas is holding his hand again and finally, the tears Dean’s been fighting all night are rolling in big fat drops down his nose.

Cas tries to catch each one, first with his lips and then with his tongue, making Dean laugh.

“Quit slobberin’ on me, Cas.” Dean laughs when Cas licks the tip of his nose.

Dean settles when Cas brings his head down to rub their noses together, his blue eyes locking on Dean.

They stare, and the minutes go by, hours, days; Dean doesn’t know and doesn’t care. Cas brushes their lips together every once in a while, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. They fall asleep like that.

Dean doesn’t dream.

***

The last two rejection letters come. Dean finds them in the office trash at work. The worst part is, the last letter is from Wisconsin.

Dean rips it into a thousand pieces.

He researches late admissions and tries to convince Cas to register for some classes at the Community College, see if he can get into a University in a year or two. He finds the half finished applications in Cas’ top drawer two weeks before graduation.

He finishes them and mails them and doesn’t tell Cas.

They pack Dean’s room together, Cas saying less and less as their time runs out. Dean all but begs Cas to come with them when Samuel takes Dean to school but he refuses.

“I need to say goodbye to you here Dean, where everything else about us is. That school, that’s for you. I can’t be there.”

He’s the only thing Dean needs and when Dean wakes up every day for the next few years, it’s going to be somewhere Cas has never been. Dean’s never known anywhere like that.

The night before graduation, Dean and Cas lose their virginity to each other.

For a week, Dean thinks about telling Cas he loves him but realizes how shitty that would be. He keeps his mouth shut and kisses Cas breathless in his empty bedroom one last time. Cas stands on his front porch and watches Dean leave for school.

Two days later, Cas walks into the office of the local Army recruiter.


	5. Chapter 5

One new message:

**Hey, it’s uh, it’s Cas. I really didn’t want to leave this on your voicemail. Fuck. Okay. Don’t get pissed at me. I joined the Army. No schools wanted me and I can’t work at the video store forever. You’re going to be mad, I know that but Dean, I had to do this.**

**They’re sending me to basic training in Georgia. It’s eight or nine weeks, I can’t remember but I probably won’t have access to a phone. Uh, you can write to me? If you want. I’ll leave the address for you. I’m leaving today, Dean. I wish—fuck. I wish we would have had more time. Anyway. I hope you write. I’ll call again when I can. Goodbye, Dean.**

  
  


_ Dear Cas,  _

_ I don’t think I’ve ever written someone a letter in my life. I took a few hours and a long ass walk around campus to calm down because, what in the actual fuck dude. The Army? I guess I get it but damn. Did your mom freak out? Mine did when I told her. She asked for your address so she could send a care package or something; I hope that’s ok. Sam says hi too.  _

_ Private Novak. That’s still so crazy. Try not to go all Full Metal Jacket on me, ok?  _

_ School is fine. My roommate is kinda weird, dude’s name is Victor and he’s here getting his degree in criminal justice. He won’t shut up about the FBI but if I start talking about castrating bulls, he shuts up real quick. Can’t imagine what’s strange about that. :) _

_ Victor said his cousin was in the Navy and not getting mail was the worst part about boot camp so I’ll keep writing. I’d hate for you to be the only one not getting mail over there. My dorm address is on the envelope so if you have any time and can’t call me, write back.  _

_ How do you end a letter without being awkward? Maybe I’ll figure that out the more of these I write. Don’t do anything stupid, Cas. Hope to hear from you soon. _

_ -Dean _

 

One new message:

**Hey, it’s me. Sorry, I wish I would have got you this time. Fuck. I know I sound like a mess but fuck, this is harder than I thought it was going to be. I hate it here. It’s so quiet at night and like, half these guys start crying and—Let’s just say we have a lot of time to think and the last thing I want is to be alone with my thoughts. I really fucking miss you. I don't care how that sounds. It’s true.**

**Listen, I don’t have long, I’m surprised they even let us make calls, to be honest. Can you do me a favor and call my mom? Let her know I’m okay? Please don’t tell her I was crying, I don’t want to put that on her. They gave me one phone call, like a fucking prisoner, and I called you so please, call her. Tell your mom thanks for the package too. Okay, fuck. I’m getting the evil eye so I gotta go. I hope you’re good. Please keep writing.**

 

_ Dear Cas,  _

_ I called your mom, told her you were fine. She grilled me about school for an hour so thanks for that. She’s doing good. She misses you. Gabriel was there when I called and his dumb ass is ok too. Said he’s happy he doesn’t have to watch Star Wars on loop anymore but Sam said when he went in to rent a movie last week, Gabriel was watching Empire. Guess he misses you too.  _

_ The internship was crap. I got paid so whatever but I just made coffee and ran errands for this pompous ass and learned nothing about anything. What a waste of fuckin’ time. My grandpa calls me every Sunday and expects a full report of my week. I hate those calls. How fucked it is that I have to listen to his lectures every week but I miss your calls.  _

_ Anyway. Your message, man. I think I listened to it about fifty times. Broke me a little, hearing you like that. I hope by the time you get this, it’s gotten better. Just keep your head up.  _

_ I miss you too. Hope I don’t miss your next call. _

_ -Dean _

 

**Hello, Dean. I don’t have long, I just wanted you to know that basic training graduation is on the 24th and you probably can’t make it but maybe you could try? My mom and Gabriel are coming so—If you can make it, talk to them. I’ll save you a ticket. Talk later.**

 

_ Dear Cas,  _

_ I hate that I keep missing your calls. I want to be at that graduation more than anything but there’s no way I can make it. I don’t know how in the hell I’d get to Georgia and aside from that, I’ve got a huge chem test that day that I can’t make up.  _

_ I’m real sorry, Cas. Seriously. Maybe once you’re out of basic, we can finally talk on the phone and plan something better. I’ll make it up to you, promise.  _

_ I hope you get this before then.  _

_ Miss you. _

_ -Dean _

 

**Hey Dean, it’s me. I wanted to give you my new address. Got my orders, they’re sending me to fucking Yuma. I don’t even know where the fuck that is. Everyone says it’s a shit post but there’s nothing I can do about it. If you couldn’t get to Georgia, you probably won’t be able to get to Arizona either. Whatever.**

**Once I get there, I’ll try to call you again. Barracks share a phone but at least I won’t have to be on my best behavior to earn a phone call. Talk soon, I hope.**

 

_ Dear Cas, _

_ We’re not great at this phone thing, huh. Sorry I keep missing you. This fucking program has me so busy, I barely have time to eat these days. If there’s a number I can call, let me know.  _

_ On top of my classes, I’m working on campus at their farm, basically shovelling shit for a few hours a day. I hate this place. I have to constantly remind myself that I’m doing this for mom and Sam but fuck, it really sucks.  _

_ Remember that time when we were little, maybe ten or eleven, and we ran away and slept in the woods? God, I thought my dad was going to kill us. Dunno why that popped into my head the other day but I can’t stop thinking about it. We did it to celebrate getting our casts off, remember? And I thought we were lost but you knew exactly where we were and convinced me to stay. You always had my back, Cas.  _

_ Anyway. Let me know about the number.  _

_ -Dean _

 

**Hey, it’s me. 928-337-8435. You’ll be calling a building with about 300 guys in it so hopefully one of them is cool enough to track me down, if they even know who I am. It’s probably a terrible idea to call this number, actually.**

**I remember that, by the way. Running away.**

**We should have gone further. Stayed away.**

**I miss you.**

 

_ Hey Cas, _

_ I tried calling the number you gave me. Some dude picked up, said he was going to find you. Twenty minutes later, I heard someone pick up the phone and hang it up. So you were right about that.  _

_ Can you believe this shit happening in New York? Makes me sick to my stomach, thinking about all those people. That’s when I called. After it happened. I feel helpless, here. I don’t know what this means for you but I figure nothing good, right? Fuck, I don’t want to think about it but damn it, Cas.  _

_ I’m going to keep calling. I don’t know if I’ll be able to reach you but fuck, I really need to hear your voice. You know? I wish I could—   _

_ Keep trying to call me, Cas. Please.  _

_ -Dean _

 

**Dean… Of all the fucking times for you not to answer your goddamn phone. Why do I have to keep telling these terrible things to your answering machine? Fuck. Okay.**

**They’re sending me to Iraq. I got to go home for a few days, saw my mom and Gabriel. Fuck.**

**I don’t know what else to say. We’re leaving tonight. I won’t be able to call you for a while.**

**…**

**…**

**Dean I—I just want to go home. And not—shit. I just want to curl up in bed with you and Star Wars on that shitty little TV you had and just forget all this. I fucked up, Dean. I really fucked up here. I never thought—**

**Fuck. It doesn’t matter now, does it? I hope—I just want to see you again.**

**Bye, Dean.**

 

_ Cas,  _

_ I think I started this letter over a million times. What the fuck am I supposed to say?  _

_ I worry. Every single day, I worry about you. Being there. Alone. Your mom gave me the address and I hope this reaches you and that you’re okay. Be okay, Cas. You gotta come home.  _

_ Be fucking careful, Cas. Please. _

_ -Dean  _

 

**Hey… I can’t really talk, I’m not supposed to be on this phone at all actually but I had to call you. It’s bad here, Dean. It’s the worst fucking place I’ve ever been in my life. This must be what hell looks like, I swear to god. Your letter took three weeks to get here and now. Fuck I can’t say anything else. Just—keep writing okay? Dean I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had okay? I need you to know that. I need you to know—**

 

_ Cas,  _

_ I keep seeing all these terrible things on the news. I swear, CNN is on our TV all day. Victor hates it but his cousin is there too so all we do when we’re not in class is watch. They keep announcing casualties and fuck, I can’t breathe every time I think I’m going to see your name.  _

_ I never want to see your name, Cas.  _

_ I was thinking about that time we drove to Austin and slept in your truck. Remember that? We had like, a hundred bucks between us and we spent most of it on gas because that fucking truck of yours is a guzzler. We ate cheap ass cheeseburgers and walked around like we were hot shit.  _

_ I miss that. Just getting up and going, you know? I swear you could talk me into anything.  _

_ When you come home, we’ll drive wherever you want, okay?  _

_ Come home, Cas. _

_ -Dean _

 

_ Cas, _

_ I was in the student center today and that fucking Starship song came on, remember, from prom night? I had to leave, it was just too much.  _

_ I sent a package. There’s a student group here that puts together care packages for the troops. I gave them the address for your company so hopefully you guys get some good stuff. My box is mostly cigarettes and porn but I threw some pictures in there too. I hope you get it.  _

_ I keep listening to your voicemails. Victor wanted to delete them but Sam told me how to save them to my laptop so now I can listen to them whenever I want. I listen to them a lot. _

_ I hope you’re okay.  _

_ -Dean  _

 

_ Hey Cas, _

_ I hope you’re getting my letters. I try to write every day but it’s hard. I don’t know if letters full of my lame ass days are interesting to you but I’m gonna keep sending them. They aren’t coming back to me so I can only hope you’re getting them.  _

_ Every day it’s something different on the news. One minute they say you guys are coming home and then the next, it’s all gloom and doom. Sam and Victor say no news is probably good news but I don’t know. Not knowing for sure if you’re ok is the worst kind of torture.  _

_ I just keep thinking about everything. It’s weird, I guess, thinking of us. I mean, every single one of my days had you in it, for as far back as I can remember. And now…  _

_ It’s been 297 days since you called. When I did the math, I about fell off the bed. It’s fucking strange, life without you.  _

_ God, this letter is ridiculous. I miss you.  _

_ -Dean _

 

_ Cas, _

_ I think you called? I listened to the message about a hundred times but it was mostly static and broken noise. Part of me hopes it was you, because that would mean you’re alive and fuck, I hope it was you.  _

_ I need you to be alright. One of the guys on my floor, his dad fucking died over there. I didn’t even know the guy and god damn it Cas. You can’t fucking leave me in this fucked up world. There’s no fucking way I’d survive losing you. All of this bullshit, this stupid fucking school and having to live someone else’s dream out for them, it wasn’t what I wanted Cas. It wasn’t.  _

_ I’m so pissed at myself for not listening to you. You were the only person who ever told me I could live for myself and I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry about that now. Maybe if I had listened, maybe we’d be somewhere together, away from all of this. You’d be safe and I would know that because I’d be able to touch you, you’d be a real person and not just a memory. I fucked everything up for us, you deserved a better person in your life, Cas.  _

_ I’m sorry I wasn’t better.  _

_ -Dean _

 

_ Cas, _

_ Hey so the news today said that there was a big bombing over there and one of the channels said it was echo company that got hit and another said it was charlie company and fuck. That’s you guys. I threw up on my RA’s feet. He was so fucking pissed. Ha, I had chili for lunch too. It was so gross, you’d have died laughing.  _

_ Fuck. I shouldn’t say that. Because you might actually be dead. What the hell would I even say to your mom? I can’t watch them put you in the ground Cas, fuck no. Remember my dad’s shitty funeral? You held my hand the whole time. If it’s you, how will you do that? I can’t do it. I’m sorry.  _

_ I’m really fucking drunk right now so sorry if this is just nonsense. I’ve been drinking for uh, I don’t even know. I keep thinking if I drink enough, none of it will be true. That’s stupid huh. Every day when I check the mail, I expect a bundle of letters being sent back. Every day the mail box is empty, I’m glad.  _

_ I’m sorry but I stopped counting the days. I hope you don’t get mad. The number keeps growing and every day I had to add it was killing me.  _

_ Fuck. I hope… I just need you to be okay. _

_ -Dean _

 

_ Dear Cas,  _

_ I didn’t tell you this but I’m staying here to get my masters. In fucking agriculture. I don’t know why I’m bothering, I hate this place. Victor’s leaving next week, he got accepted to some program in DC, fuckin quantico or something. Guess he’s gonna be a big FBI agent after all.  _

_ I’ll be shoveling cow shit for the rest of my life while he saves the world. Typical, right?  _

_ I hope that’s what you’re doing, Cas. Saving the world. I know saving me probably doesn’t compare at all but it’s true. You saved me, Cas. You moved in next door and you changed my entire life. I think about you a lot. Sometimes, I’ll be in the middle of class or at the fucking coffee shop and suddenly, I can smell green apples. That cheap ass shampoo you had, remember it?  _

_ Oh you’ll laugh at this. So I was at the library yesterday and I went to shove my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie and the fucking thing fell apart. Like, the pocket just popped off. Did you even know that could happen? Its that gray hoodie you had. Did you know I took it? Victor said I shouldn’t wear it out in public but fuck him. I bet I can sew the pocket back on.  _

_ Two more years of this bullshit. I think I only signed on because I can’t imagine going home and you not being there. Fucking pathetic, right?  _

_ Oh, the entire point of this letter was to let you know that since I’m moving out of my dorm, you won’t be able to call me. I’m renting an apartment with a few other people and once I have the number, I’ll send it.  _

_ -Dean  _

 

_ Dear Cas, _

_ I went home this weekend. Sam’s graduation. I stopped by your mom’s but she wasn’t home. Gabriel is in the wind, as far as I can tell. Sam says he comes and goes so I guess my timing was bad. I was going to stay for a week but I couldn’t do it. You were everywhere and anyone I ran into was asking about you and I didn’t have answers for them so I went back to school. Sam was pissed but oh well.  _

_ Samuel sat me down for one of his little chats. Had to sign some paperwork but once I finish this masters program, the ranch is mine. Isn’t that fucked? He’s going to fuck off to Florida with my grandma and then it will be all me. What a joke. I feel like a kid and he’s handing me the keys to the empire. Any bets on how long it will take me to fuck it all up?  _

_ One bonus to this nightmare of my life is that my mom is giving me the Impala. You might not remember that car but it was my parents’ when they got married. Apparently, my dad wrecked it (running theme, am I right?) and it’s been at my uncle Bobby’s since forever. He fixed it up and he’s going to bring it to me. Kinda cool, I guess. Never had my own car.  _

_ We’ll take a ride when you get home, okay?  _

_ -Dean  _

 

_ Dear Cas, _

_ It’s almost done.  Four more months and then I’ll have a few pieces of paper I can frame on the wall and more knowledge about birthing cattle than I care to admit. It’s so weird you know. When I first came to Wisconsin, all I could think about was being somewhere you’ve never been. There aren’t many places in my life that hold that title.  _

_ Now I’m going to go home where you are everywhere, in every single space. I want to wrap myself in the feeling of home but fuck Cas, I don’t have a fucking home unless you’re there. I wonder if I’ll ever get that back. Without you, I doubt it.  _

_ I don’t know what I’d say if I saw you again. I dream about you, the same dream over and over. You’re standing in the dark, I know it’s you, I’d know the shape of you anywhere. I’m always calling your name but you never turn around. No matter how loud I scream, you never turn around. God, do not put that into one of those dream interpretation sites ok, it’s fucked up. I wake up with the scent of green apples in my room and I think you might be haunting me.  _

_ You know what’s fucked up? If I had known, that day I left, that kissing you in my old bedroom was going to be the last time, I’d have stayed. Like, these last six years haven’t meant shit without you, Cas. It’s too late to say that, I know it is. But it’s been so long and I lost my chance so if I only ever tell you this here, at least I’ll have said it, you know.  _

_ I love you. I’ve loved you for a really long time. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life loving you and when I had my chance, I was too fucking stupid to say anything. All I needed was you, it was always you and my biggest regret will be that I never got to say it to your face. When you stopped calling, or couldn’t call anymore, whatever the reason, I fucking lost my mind, Cas.  _

_ I used to think that if I could just man up and tell you how I felt, that maybe you’d feel the same, you know? I wanted to tell you, so many times. I couldn’t risk losing you so I kept my dumb mouth shut and now I’ll never know if you loved me too. At least, like I loved you.  _

_ I’d give anything to tell you how in love I am with you. Still. Fuckin sad right?  _

_ As dumb as it sounds, I probably won’t stop writing to you. Even if I never send them, telling you about my day is a habit now. Gives me a little hope to be connected to you somehow.  _

_ I really hope that wherever you are, you’re safe. Happy. Maybe even in love.   _

_ If you ever come looking, you know where to find me, Cas.  _

_ -Your Dean _


	6. Chapter 6

The bus pulls up to the curb and the smell of exhaust fills the cabin. If he never has to smell exhaust again, it would still be too soon to Castiel. 

Stepping off the bus is like going back in time. People all around him are hugging, greeting loved ones. He's seen every kind of reunion there is. The hardest ones to watch were when they got back to the States, after Iraq. So many families, wives, kids, mothers, hugging their soldiers hello. Today, like all those other days, there's no one waiting to welcome Castiel back. He thinks he should be used to it by now. 

Castiel hitches his duffle over his shoulder and starts walking. 

The town looks the same. It's about twelve miles to his house and he's going to have to walk past every memory he's ever had to get there. Castiel throws on his aviators and gets moving. 

The high school looks the same. Castiel notices that the video store is gone, it's a fucking Starbucks now. Figures. 

It's fucking hot and the sun is beating down on his shoulders. Castiel stops to pull off his jacket and stuff it in his duffle. He kind of regrets not calling Gabriel from Amarillo and telling him to pick him up. The truth is, Castiel hadn't made up his mind about actually coming back by then. It wasn't until they were almost in San Antonio that he decided. 

It was Gabriel that told him to get his ass home when he landed in North Carolina. Cancer. His mom has stage 4 breast cancer and wasn't that just the end all? Castiel’s been running away for so long he almost forgot the things he left behind. Being holed up in a Naval Hospital in Germany was fine for awhile but after the first six months, it just felt like another prison. 

Now he's home and his mother is dying and all Castiel has to show for the last six years is a limp, a hole in his knee, and a Purple Heart. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a familiar rumble and he turns, shaking his head at his old—and still as ugly as ever—brown and tan truck with Gabriel behind the wheel. He’s wearing his signature smirk and Castiel realizes how much he missed the son of a bitch. He’s not going to tell him that, though. 

“Hey, handsome! You goin’ my way?” Gabriel’s eyes are wide and shining and Castiel gets  a little choked up too. The last time he saw his cousin, he was about to leave for Iraq and honestly thought he wouldn’t see him again. Castiel is glad he was wrong about that. 

Castiel tosses his duffle in the bed of the truck and climbs in. It smells like it always has—a mix of cigarettes and a campfire, probably from being parked next to his firepit for so long. It’s comforting to know that some things never change. 

Gabriel claps him on the shoulder once he settles into his seat. He holds on for a beat and just looks at Castiel. “It’s good to have you back, Cassie.” He scuffs him on the chin. “Damn good.” 

“Thanks Gabriel.” Cas buckles his seat belt as they pull back out on the road. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Oh, I drive up and down this highway all the time looking for hitchhikers. Haven’t gotten stabbed yet!” 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Sure.” 

“Alfie called, said he saw you getting off the Greyhound and start walking in this direction. He works at the station.” 

“Right. Small town life.” Castiel sighs. “I’d forgotten.” He’s been outside the bubble of town living for so long, Castiel was taking his anonymity for granted.

“Why didn’t you call me, bucko? I’d have been there waiting.” Gabriel almost looks hurt.

No way in hell Castiel is telling him he almost considered not coming back. As if Gabriel didn’t think him selfish enough for being gone as long as he has. 

“I didn’t know exactly when I’d arrive. Plus the doctors say walking is good for my injury.”

“That so? Well, I can drop you off if you wanna walk the rest of the way?” Gabriel teases.

“Just drive, Gabriel.” Castiel stares out the window, watching the familiar houses pass by. Thankfully, they don't need to drive through the old neighborhood. He tries to ignore the fact that going home is going to elicit enough painful memories.

“So, how is she?” He's dreading Gabriel's answer.

“Today's a good day. Since we didn't know when you were coming back exactly, she's been making me clean the house.” Gabriel glances at him. “She's bossy, man.”

“She can be.” Castiel huffs out a laugh. “What does a bad day look like?” The shame Castiel feels not knowing the answers to these questions lingers over him like a stormcloud.

“Pretty fucking bad, man. I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you. She's really sick, Cassie.”

Gabriel pulls into the driveway and Castiel doesn't want to get out of the truck. He’s a coward. He stares at the house, not knowing what to expect when he goes inside. “How do you know it’s a good day?”

“Well, when I came by this morning, she was up and having her coffee. Bitched me out for not taking out the trash yesterday and forgetting to come over and walk the damn dog with her.” 

“Hold on. A dog?” 

“You remember Blue?”

“Rufus’ evil ass coonhound? What the hell?” 

“Yeah, Rufus passed away about a year ago. I guess they were friends, church group or somethin’. Dog was headed to the glue factory and Naomi stepped in.” 

“Great,” Castiel mutters. He hopes the dog is too old to remember how much he hates Castiel.

“Yup, so on a good day, we walk Blue.” Gabriel’s smile is bright but Castiel recognizes the sadness underneath it. “Said she felt up to working in the garden today and then she wanted me to take her to the store. That’s where I was coming from when Alfie called.”

Castiel nods.

“She used to have a lot more bad days when she was still doing chemo but—”  

“Wait, what? She isn’t doing chemo anymore? When the fuck did that happen?” Castiel thought the chemotherapy was helping and he’s pissed that no one thought to talk to him about this decision.

“Nah, it was just making her sick.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Ah, you know what I fucking mean.  _ Sicker.  _ It would take her a week or more to recover. She’d throw up so much she’d end up dehydrated. The doctor was coming out more often than not and she just got tired of it.” Gabriel’s smile is gone. “Stage 4, Castiel. There’s no coming back from that.”

His mother is dying and Castiel hasn’t been here. “You come every day?”

“Rain or shine.” Gabriel stares at the house, his hands twitching.

“Gabriel, I don’t know how to—”

“Cassie, it’s fine. You don’t have to say anything. She’s family and I’d do anything to help out my little cousin while he’s off saving the world.” His cheeky grin is back.

Castiel ducks his head. “Hardly saving the world, Gabe. Probably did more harm than good.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Castiel’s voice is tight. If he can live the rest of his life never talking about Iraq, he’d be fine with it. Knowing Gabriel and his inquisitive nature, Castiel knows he won’t be so lucky.

Gabriel takes the hint though and drops the subject by climbing out of the truck. Castiel grabs his duffle and follows him inside, feeling like a stranger in his own house.

“Naomi!” Gabriel walks towards the kitchen. “Got that milk you needed and I picked up a little surprise for you on the way back!”

Castiel’s lips twitch in amusement as he enters the kitchen behind Gabriel, seeing his mother standing at the sink with her back towards them. She’s thin, so much thinner than the last time he saw her. Blue is laying at her feet and he lifts his head, growling softly in greeting.

“I swear to God Gabey, if you brought back another—” She turns and stops short at the sight of Castiel in the doorway.

“Castiel?” Her eyes are wide and the dish towel she’s holding flutters to the floor. 

His duffle hits the floor and he’s crossed the room to her in an instant, gathering her in his arms. Her frailty scares the shit out of him.

“Hello, mother.” Castiel holds her tight, looking at Gabriel over the top of her head. He mouths a silent, “thank you.” and Gabriel nods and slips out, leaving Castiel and his mother alone to catch up.

They spend the afternoon talking, Castiel careful not to talk about her diagnosis and Naomi just as careful not to talk about his deployment. They dance around the two elephants in the room for some time, until Castiel can see she’s starting to get sleepy. 

When she goes to lay down for her afternoon nap, Castiel knows he can’t put off the inevitable any longer. He drags his feet nonetheless, cleaning up the kitchen and the living room. Everything looks just as he left it and even that hurts in a way he wasn’t expecting. 

When he finally opens the door to his room, a wave of nostalgia hits him so hard he almost turns around and closes the door. Instead, he throws his bag on the bed and opens it. The smell of bus exhaust and sweat fills the room and he opens the sliding glass door, hoping for a breeze. His life shouldn’t fit in a military duffle bag but it wasn’t like he ever held on to much over the years. Aside from a few uniforms and his personal kit, he only has a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts in the bag. He donated his heavy coats and extra clothes before he left Germany so the load of laundry he needs to do is small. 

At the bottom of his duffle is a drawstring bag which he removes and puts in a drawer in his desk. He’s not ready to look at what’s inside again. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be. 

***

It’s really easy for Castiel’s life to fall into a pattern. It doesn’t take him long to settle and pick up the routine Gabriel and his mother have had for the past few years. Naomi’s doctor appointments are every Monday and Thursday, she likes to grocery shop on Wednesdays, and visit with her church friends on Fridays. Castiel drives her wherever she needs to go, helping her in and out of his truck. 

The second week he’s home, Castiel experiences the first of Naomi’s bad days since his return. Gabriel comes to his rescue, helping him strip the linens and showing him what needs to be done. He stays, long after Naomi has finally fallen asleep, her body exhausted from the pain of the day. They start a fire and split a bottle of whiskey while they watch the flames. 

“How do you do this over and over again?” Castiel takes a sip from the bottle and passes it to Gabriel. 

“I just do what I gotta do, Cassie.” He drinks. “I’m almost used to it. Kali hates when I have to sleep here but sometimes, it’s necessary. I’ll stay tonight, just in case.” He takes another drink. “Not that I’ll be able to drive now.” 

“Thanks, Gabriel. I greatly appreciate you and what you’ve done for my mother. I’ll have to thank Kali too.” Castiel looks out into the darkness. “I should have been here.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up, man. You got out.” He sounds envious. “I don’t even know why you came back.” 

“You know I had to. Taking care of mother is my responsibility and my checks only go so far.” Every check Castiel earned in the Army were sent to his mother. Aside from the small amount he kept for himself to get by, the rest was sent home every month. 

“That’s the only reason, huh?” Gabriel takes a drink and passes the bottle back to Castiel. “Nothin’ to do with a certain rancher you used to know and love?” 

Castiel clenches his jaw, snatching the bottle away from Gabriel. He doesn’t appreciate the innuendo in Gabriel’s tone. “I’m not talking about that with you.” In fact, Castiel never wants to talk about that. About him. Especially with Gabriel, of all people.

It’s bad enough that the first night he slept in his bed, Castiel thought he could smell mint and traces of vanilla still lingering in the sheets. He stripped the bed and slept on the bare mattress that night. Castiel wasn’t stupid, he knew coming home meant dealing with all the shit he left behind but it was obvious after that first night that he wasn’t ready to think about his former best friend and love of his completely miserable life.

“And what are you going to do when he comes back, hot shot?” Gabriel is looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

Castiel lights a cigarette. “Not a goddamn thing.”

***

Another part of Castiel’s new routine is the nights spent at The Roadhouse. It’s not too far a walk, which comes in handy when he drinks too much and needs to leave his truck behind. The bar is loud and a total dive and it helps Castiel drown out the sound of his thoughts. Gabriel joins him some nights, Kali in tow occasionally. 

Castiel likes her, she’s a good match for Gabriel. They’ve been married for three years, both having previously failed marriages under their belt. Kali tolerates Gabriel for reasons Castiel doesn’t understand but he looks at her like she’s a goddess and Castiel can’t fault him for it. Kali is stunning, way out of Gabriel’s league and a total badass. In the time Castiel has gotten to know her, he’s watched her kick the ass of a giant biker and manhandle Gabriel a time or two. She’s fearless.

The only downfall to drinking at The Roadhouse is that it’s the place where all the townies come to drink which means everyone knows everyone and they are all people Castiel grew up with. Every night its the same faces. He’s learned the fates of many of his classmates thanks to Jo, the chatty bartender. Her mom Ellen owns the bar and runs a tight ship and Jo works most nights. She talks to Castiel every night he’s there. Her smile is nice and she isn’t intrusive, despite the fact that she knows all the gossip around town. 

“People tell me shit, Castiel. I don’t ask but a few beers in, and suddenly I’m everyone’s therapist.” She’s wiping down the bartop and flashing her teeth at him. She leans in. “Except you. You come in, drink some beers, shoot some whiskey, listen to me dish, and tip me well when you leave.” She stands back straight and pours him a shot. “One of these days… I’m gonna get you to talk.” 

“Believe me Jo, I’m not that interesting.”  Castiel is just another vet, back home to start over right where he left off when he joined the military. It feels like the last six years didn’t happen, like he hit reset the minute he stepped off the bus that brought him back to town. There’s nothing special about Castiel and there never was. 

“I doubt that, Castiel. It looks like you’ve lived a thousand lives behind those blue eyes of yours.” She pushes off the bar and goes about her business. Castiel isn’t sure, but he thinks that might have been a flirtation. It’s not like Castiel never hooked up in the last few years but Jo isn’t really his type. She’s lacking certain  _ equipment _ . 

Castiel always knew he was gay, but his life is spent pretending, first growing up here and then in the military. He’d have been discharged if it got out, but if there’s one thing Castiel is good at, it’s hiding his sexuality. There was only ever one person he felt comfortable being himself with and that person moved on, figuring out that Castiel wasn’t good; definitely not good enough to wait for. 

In Castiel’s life, everyone always leaves. The rejection tastes bitter in his mouth but Castiel is used to it. He wishes he wasn’t.

***

“Sam Winchester called for you, Castiel.” 

Castiel misses the table he throws his keys onto everyday, the set clattering to the floor. 

“Castiel. Please.” His mother is laying in the dark, a compress over her eyes. He’s worried. She’s been creeping towards bad days for a few days now, the headaches and fatigue getting worse. 

“My apologies, mother. Did you say Sam Winchester called?” Castiel’s chest feels tight. 

“Yes, Castiel. He left a message, it’s on the fridge under the bumblebee magnet.” 

He steps over the dog in a hurry to reach the kitchen. He’s been successful in avoiding the younger Winchester since his return. He thought it best, considering. Castiel knew everything there was to know about the family, not because he asked, but because Gabriel thought he needed to know. 

Castiel snatches the notepaper from under the magnet and reads the name he’s tried so hard to avoid for years, followed by a number. 

“It’s just… a phone number, mother,” Castiel calls from the kitchen. He will not acknowledge that name. 

“He said you needed the number and that was the message.” She sits up, pushing the hair off her forehead while squinting at Castiel in the kitchen. “What is the problem, Castiel? Have you not talked to—”  

“Mother, please.” Castiel holds a hand out to stop her. He’s not going to have this conversation. Not tonight. Not anytime soon. “I do not wish to discuss this with you.” 

“Because it’s ridiculous, Castiel, and you know it.” Her face softens when she takes in Castiel’s rigid demeanor. “Fine, we won’t discuss it.” She brings the compress into the kitchen, her steps heavy. Blue follows closely. 

She pats his cheek and he leans down to kiss hers. “Get some rest, Cassie. We’re leaving early to see Dr. Adler tomorrow.” 

Castiel wrinkles his brow. “No, mother, we saw Dr. Adler today, remember? He had on that horrid pink tie? You said it looked like Pepto Bismol.” 

Add disorientation to the list of things getting worse.

Naomi pats her lips. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”

“That’s ok, why don’t you head to bed and I’ll bring you some water in a few moments?” 

She nods and drifts towards her bedroom right off the kitchen. Castiel clenches his jaw and reaches for a glass, filing it with cold water. His hand wanders to his pocket where he stuffed the phone number. The paper is rough as he squeezes it in his fist. He tries to come up with a reason why Sam would want him to have this number and he can’t. It’s been radio silence going on four years. Castiel is used to the empty space. 

Castiel heaves a sigh and takes the water in to his mother’s room. She’s in bed, propped up on pillows with Blue by her side, her hand stroking his flank absentmindedly. The low light of the room accentuates her sharp cheekbones. He leans in, kissing her forehead before placing the water on her nightstand. 

“Can I get you anything else, mother?” 

Naomi reaches for his hand and holds it tight. “I’m happy to have you home, Castiel. It was too quiet here in your absence.” She squeezes his hand before letting go. “Can you take Blue out before you go to bed?” 

“Yes, of course.” A warmth settles in his chest. As much as he was terrified of returning, he’s found some comfort in the family he’s returned to. Regardless, a moment of doubt seizes him as he remembers that anytime he gets comfortable, the rug gets ripped out from under him. He tries to shake it off but the thought lingers, pushing at the edges of his dreams. 

When Castiel wakes up in the morning, his mother is dead. 

Usually the smell of coffee draws her from her bed but when she didn’t join him after the second pot, Castiel became concerned. Castiel has seen his share of death. It’s not until he touches her cold skin that he understands she isn’t simply asleep. He stays with her until the sun fully rises, filling her bedroom with yellow rays of sunlight and a warmth she will never feel again.

Castiel is numb. 

He sits at the kitchen table, Blue at his feet, his coffee gone cold. Castiel isn’t sure how the small piece of paper has made its way into his hand but he feels disconnected as his fingers smooth the paper flat, the phone number glaring at him in his mother’s hand writing. 

He dials the number before he can stop himself. 

He flinches at the sound of the robot’s voice reciting the number back to him. He swallows thickly at the beep.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice cracks. “Dean, my mom—she’s dead. I—” A dry sob scratches his throat on it’s way out. “Dean, please. I need you.” 

Dean’s voicemail is unforgiving and Castiel knows he is owed nothing in this moment. 

The phone rings in his hand. 

“Dean?” 

“What? No, it’s Gabe. Where are you guys? We said twelve for lunch, not twelve-thirty right?” He pulls away from the phone. “Kali, you’re sure it’s twelve?” 

The disappointment Castiel feels wars with the sorrow attempting to consume him. His breath is becoming erratic. 

“What is it, Cassie? Naomi having a bad day?” 

“Gabriel—she’s dead.” 

Castiel calmly places the phone down, the small, tinny voice of Gabriel shouting isn’t easy to hear over his harsh breaths. He pushes himself up and calls to Blue, opening the back door for the dog to go do its business. The familiar shape of the whiskey bottle comforts him and he runs his fingers over the label. 

It’s the last thing he remembers because he opens the bottle and drinks until everything turns black. 

Dean doesn’t call back.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel buries his mother on a Thursday. 

He’s been drinking from his flask all day and his hands shake when he throws dirt on her coffin. He remembers the day in flashes; the beautiful flower arrangements from her former employers, the inside of the town car Gabriel rented for the day, Gabriel lovingly wiping a tear from Kali’s cheek. The weight of his loneliness makes Castiel’s knees buckle. 

Gabriel and Kali hover, making him eat some toast and trying to convince him to drink water before Gabriel hauls him into bed. Castiel curls into himself, into the empty spaces. The smell of mint and vanilla fills his nose the further he burrows into the sheets. 

He dreams of warm hands, a distant laugh, and green. Of home. When he wakes, his cheeks are wet. 

***

It’s a few weeks before Castiel is ready to function again, which isn’t saying much. The bills are piling up and Gabriel’s patience with him is wearing thin. He’s explained to his cousin many times that he can just fuck off and leave Castiel alone, solving all their problems. Gabriel disagrees. 

Castiel finally gets him to leave by promising to organize the stack of bills so they can pay them together tomorrow. None of the utilities seem to be past due but Castiel supposes he can spend a day in town dropping off payments. Gabriel is in the process of transferring Naomi’s checking balance into Castiel’s, the final papers signed today. 

He places the utility bills to the side, opening one from the bank, “Final Notice” in big red letters across the front. Castiel reads the letter, his brow creased. The bank claims the house is a month away from being auctioned, due to the mortgage being over a year past due. Castiel doesn’t understand. The money he sent was meant to pay off the house, Castiel had done the math himself and sent his mother an updated talley with every check. By Castiel’s calculations, the house should have been paid off a year ago. 

When Gabriel arrives the next day, the house is in disarray, Castiel having torn it apart looking for more of his mother’s paperwork. Gabriel finds him sitting on the couch, the coffee table covered in checks, Armed Forces Bank on each one. 

“What the hell, Cassie? What is all this?” Gabriel’s eyes are wide as he counts the number of checks in front of him. 

“She never cashed any of my checks! I thought you were helping her with this shit.” Because the Army mailed most of the checks straight to his mother, Castiel had no idea they weren’t being cashed. 

“Dude, seriously? I’ve never seen one of these checks in my life. She must have been hiding them before I’d come over to help her.” Gabriel shakes his head. “Clever lady, your mom.” 

“Yes, wonderful. Now they’re going to take the house because she was too damn proud to take my stupid money.” He thrusts the letter at Gabriel. 

Gabriel’s eyes widen as he reads. 

“Do you think I can still cash these checks?” Castiel bites his lip. Some of the checks are years old. 

“I think it’s time to call the lawyer.” Gabriel tosses the letter on the table and sits back on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The checks may not be good but the Army still owes you the money. Frank should be able to help with that too.” 

Frank Devereaux has been his mother’s lawyer for as long as Castiel could remember. Aside from being the only practicing lawyer in town, he helped Naomi set up her living trust after Castiel’s father disappeared. 

Castiel calls and makes an appointment for next week. It will give him time to get all the documents prepared and the checks organized. He throws the phone on the couch between them and raises an eyebrow at Gabriel. 

“I’m over this shit. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.” 

The Roadhouse greets them like an old friend would, Ellen calling out a hello and having drinks poured for them by the time they take their seats. Castiel sips the whiskey, grateful for the burn. 

They’re a few drinks in before Gabriel busts out the candy. He has an affinity for red lollipops and cinnamon whiskey and he switches to the combo the longer the night goes on. He’ll probably spend the night on Castiel’s couch unless Kali takes pity and picks his drunk ass up. 

Castiel watches Gabriel stumble back from the bathroom, only to be stopped by Ellen. His eyes get wide as they flick to Castiel, stopping briefly before looking down at the floor. He’s smirking at whatever Ellen is telling him and she smacks his ass to send him back to Castiel. 

He’s unwrapping another sucker when he finally sits down. 

“What was that about,” Castiel questions. The crinkling of the candy wrapper is annoying him.

“Ole Ellen had some news to share.” Gabriel is grinning and bouncing his brows at Castiel. 

“Who you callin’ old, boy?” Ellen replaces their empty tumblers. 

“What’s up, Gabriel?” Castiel is about two seconds away from losing interest. He’s known Gabriel to draw this sort of nonsense out only to reveal nothing of any importance. Gabriel thinks it’s hilarious. 

Gabriel smirks around the sucker in his mouth. “Dean-o’s back in town.” 

Some of the whiskey Castiel is drinking spills down his shirt. “Why the fuck would I care about that?” Shit shit shit shit. 

Gabriel snorts right into Castiel’s face. “Don’t act like he wasn’t the one who got away.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Sure, and I’ve never had to pour your drunk ass into bed after a night of crying over Dean fucking Winchester.” Gabriel crunches into the candy and the sound grates on Castiel’s nerves. “Keep telling yourself that, Cassie.” 

Castiel clenches his jaw and thins his gaze on his cousin. “Jo, my check please.” He doesn’t look away from Gabriel who just rolls his eyes and finishes his drink. “You should call your wife and ask her not to kill you.” 

Is nothing fucking sacred in his family? Castiel thinks he’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want to talk about, or to… him. One would think that moments of weakness should not be held against you. Of fucking course Castiel has slipped up. How could he not? This is Dean. Dean, whose memory Castiel fights against every single day. Dean, who Castiel loves with everything inside him. Dean, who left him, just like everyone always does. 

Now that he’s let himself think about him, Dean is consuming his thoughts. 

Castiel didn’t want this. 

***

Castiel smooths the blue tie down. Gabriel insisted he wear one for his meeting with Devereaux. He didn’t think it was necessary but Gabriel called him a child so Castiel put it on out of spite. 

“I was pointing guns at people before I could legally drink. I’m not a child,” Castiel grumbles to himself. The white shirt he bought is a few sizes too big and he hopes it isn't too obvious. He’s cursing the entire outfit when he closes the door behind him. Texas summers are ruthless and today is topping out at over one hundred degrees. He’s even more pissed when the air conditioning in his truck decides to blow only hot air. Castiel is regretting all of his life choices by the time he’s pulling into the parking lot of the attorney’s office, drenched in sweat and absolutely miserable. 

Of course Gabriel is already here and that’s even more irritating. Castiel gathers his folder of paperwork and stalks to the front door, running into a person exiting the building, his papers flying everywhere. 

He drops down to pick them up, thinking it would be near impossible for his life to get any worse at the moment. 

“Cas?” 

No. No, no, no fucking way. Castiel’s eyes trail up, taking in the flip flops, bow legs, gray shorts, and white t-shirt that Dean fucking Winchester is wearing. In a flurry, Dean is down on the floor too, picking up papers that are trying to escape in the summer breeze. Castiel sits back on his haunches and stares. He realizes his mouth is hanging open and he closes it with snap. 

Dean chuckles and it shakes Castiel out of his daze.

“What are you doing here?” 

He’s staring at Castiel like he's seen a ghost. “Just had lunch with Sammy, he’s interning for Frank this summer.” Dean’s smile blinds him. “Why are you here?”

With that simple question, Castiel shuts down. If Dean cared, which Castiel wasn’t holding his breath over, he would be able to put the pieces together easily. 

“I’m here to settle my mother’s affairs. She’s dead,” he spits out. 

Dean flinches and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, Sam told me about that. I’m real sorry. She was a nice lady.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrow. Dean genuinely looks sorry and that makes Castiel suspicious.

“I was uh, moving and couldn’t get here in time for the uh, funeral.” Dean is stumbling over his words and a part of Castiel might find that amusing if he wasn’t so pissed off. 

“Yeah, well, shit happens.” Castiel lets his eyes wander over Dean’s face and the green of his eyes makes Castiel’s stomach turn. “Excuse me, I have business.” 

Dean’s face falls as Castiel turns away from him. He has no time for this hurricane of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He pushes his way into the office and doesn’t look back.

***

The meeting with Frank goes well and Castiel considers it a small miracle. His bank is going to issue him a check for all the backpay and his mother’s bank will accept the late payments for the house. The taxes on the property were past due as well but Frank is going to take care of all of it. 

Gabriel rushes him the minute they leave Frank’s office. 

“What the hell, Cassie? You look green.” Gabriel shakes him by the shoulder. “Buck up, we got a win today.” 

“I need to go home, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel looks concerned but lets Castiel go. “Alright, wanna meet me at The Roadhouse later? We’ll celebrate.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.” Castiel feels outside his body. He drives home in a daze, thoughts of Dean running through his head. Damn, he looked really good. The creases around his eyes have gotten deeper and Cas can’t stop thinking about the scar that runs down the middle of Dean’s bottom lip. A reminder of Dean defending him against Gordon Walker their junior year. The stubble Dean was sporting is a nice addition to his already handsome face. 

No. No, Castiel isn’t going to do this to himself. Dean fucking left. He got accepted to that fucking school and he left and he didn’t look back. The angel on his shoulder argues that Dean  _ did _ write to Castiel, a lot. More than he was ever expecting. It was Dean’s letters that got him through Basic, Dean’s words that made him feel brave when they were going to ship him off to parts unknown. 

If he’s being honest with himself, it was Dean and the thought of seeing him again that kept Castiel alive during the worst moment of his life, when he thought he was seconds from death while fire and fury rained down on his unit. When war took the only friend he ever made in the Army, hell one of the only friends he’s ever had. 

Castiel wants to crawl into the bottom of a bottle, if only to escape the sense of betrayal battling his loneliness and depression for top spot in his brain. He wants to drink until he can’t feel anything, until he sees only black behind his eyelids and not fucking green. 

Drinking will make him forget that halfway through his deployment, Dean stopped writing. Castiel blamed the post at first but after six months, when people started receiving letters again (bundles of them, in some cases) and Castiel received nothing, he started to give up hope that Dean would write again. He spent countless hours reading Dean’s letters, finally packing them away in a drawstring bag once he decided that he had to let Dean go. 

After that, Castiel stopped feeling much of anything besides anger and rejection.

And now, on their first meeting, Dean had the nerve to smile at him like Castiel means something. Castiel isn’t a fool, he knows better but god, why does everything have to hurt so fucking bad? Why does his heart have to betray him and start feeling hopeful, like Dean is the answer to his problems? 

Castiel knows it’s all a lie. 

The drink Gabriel suggested is sounding better and better. Castiel changes his clothes and considers burning the button down and tie but just ends up throwing them in the back of his closet. The dark jeans and black shirt he changes into help him feel more comfortable. 

When Castiel arrives at The Roadhouse, it’s packed. Jo greets him by kicking random people off two barstools, one for him and one for Gabriel. 

“What’s up, Castiel,” she asks while pouring him a drink. “Lookin’ good, did you get a haircut or something?” He attempted to tame his beard before he came to the bar but he just shakes his head no. 

“Well, whatever you did, you look nice. Holler if you need anything!” Jo smiles that sweet smile of hers and moves on to the next customer. 

He’s on his second drink when Gabriel joins him. Not one to need formality, he jumps right in. “What’s up with you today? What the hell happened?” 

Castiel curses Gabriel’s knowledge of his moods. “How do you know something happened?” 

“Bitch, please. You look like someone pissed in your Cheerios this morning.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Must you always be so crude?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda my thing Cassie.” The grin Gabriel gives him is sarcastic. “So? Fess up.” 

He clenches his jaw and looks past his cousin as he tries to decide how much to share. Gabriel is making a hurry up motion at him but stops, his attention going to the door of the bar. He chokes on his drink. 

“Oh man, now it all makes sense.” 

Castiel shuts his eyes because this can’t be happening. If he doesn’t turn around, Dean won’t be standing there. If he doesn’t turn around, he can just get drunk with Gabriel and not have to face his entire past wrapped up in one single man. 

“Uh Cassie, it looks like he wants to come over here. Want me to kick his ass?” Gabriel actually sounds excited. He’s well aware of what happened between Castiel and Dean and has expressed many times his desire to help Castiel get over him by making Dean suffer. 

As much as Castiel appreciates Gabriel wanting to stand up for him, he can fight his own battles, this one included. 

“Be nice, Gabriel. I don’t want to get banned from this place because you want to fight Dean.” 

“Fine, I’ll wait till I see him on the street.” Gabriel knocks his shoulder against Castiel’s with a grin. 

He flinches when he hears Jo squeal Dean’s name. Castiel had no idea the two of them knew each other but he isn’t that surprised. Everyone knows and loves Dean. They always have. 

Castiel has no idea why it took Dean so long to figure out what a trainwreck he is because everyone else picked up on it pretty quick. Then again, Dean never was like anyone else Castiel’s ever known. 

Castiel hears Jo chattering on, her voice getting louder the closer they get to Castiel and Gabriel. She extends her powers that be and shoos away the two men sitting on the barstools next to Castiel so Dean and Sam can sit. 

Gabriel leans into Castiel whispering, “Whatever happens, I got your back.” Gabriel’s look turns calculating, like he’s been waiting for this opportunity. “Now Cassie,  _ be nice  _ and say hello.” He turns Castiel’s stool towards Dean. 

Castiel glares at Gabriel for as long as he can without turning his head. He grips the bar before Gabriel can turn his seat all the way into Dean’s personal space. Castiel gives him a glance. 

“Hello, Dean.” He looks at the man looming behind Dean. “Sam.” 

“Hey, Cas.” Sam is smiling at him as he pats Castiel on the shoulder. “Sorry about your mom, our mom sends her condolences as well. She wanted to go to the funeral but—”  

“Yeah, that was  _ family  _ only, sorry Sasquatch,” Gabriel cuts in, his emphasis clear. The Winchesters might have been considered family once but they aren’t anymore. 

Castiel is kind of listening to their conversation but it’s not really registering. Dean is gazing at him, his face sad, and Castiel can’t tear his eyes away. Everything inside of him is screaming to run but Castiel’s never listened before so why start now. Dean breaks first when Jo puts a few beers down for him and Sam. 

“Thanks, Jo.” Dean’s voice is rough and it sends chills down Castiel’s spine. 

Sam still hasn’t sat down and he’s scanning the bar, his eyes lighting up when he sees a group across the room. “I see them, Dean. I’m gonna head over there.” He looks at Dean expectantly. 

“Okay Sammy, I’ll be right over.” Dean sips his beer and looks back at Castiel. 

It would probably be really rude if Castiel just walked out so he stays but doesn’t say much. Even though he was cursing him earlier, he feels nothing but relief when Gabriel takes over the conversation. 

“So Dean-o, you’re back to rule the evil empire huh? Guess that makes you Darth Vader?” 

“Something like that,” Dean sighs. “What about you? Sam said you’re working over at the factory?” 

“Yup, you know me, same old shit.” He nudges Castiel and makes him spill his drink a little. “Not all of us are getting government money so we don’t have to work, ain’t that right Cassie?” 

“That’s nobody’s business, Gabriel.” Castiel doesn’t want to talk about his situation. After Iraq, the military deemed him one hundred percent disabled due to his knee, a little traumatic brain injury, and some bullshit diagnosis of post traumatic stress syndrome. Then again, they gave the latter to everyone who came and went to Iraq. All it means to him is that they’ll keep paying him his full salary for the rest of his life so if he doesn’t want to work, he doesn’t have to. He considered applying for a job with Gabriel to keep himself busy but he can’t imagine working in the same plastics factory that both his parents and Dean’s father all despised. Gabriel’s always been happy wherever he is but to Castiel, it would be too close to feeling like giving up. 

“Whatever, Cassie. You know Kali said you can come work with her over at the restaurant, she still needs someone to cook the books.” 

Kali owns a few wine bars around Texas, the major cities mostly so she travels to them a lot. She’s been asking Castiel to do her accounting since he got back but he hasn’t taken her up on the offer. 

“Who’s Kali?” Dean asks. 

“My hot as shit wife, that’s who!” Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows. “The ass on that one, even you’d be staring, Dean-o.” 

“Dude, gross.” 

“It’s his second wife.” Castiel can interrupt conversations too. 

Gabriel glares at him as Dean laughs. 

“You’re on your second wife? How did you manage to trick one woman into marrying you, let alone two?”

“All right, fuck off Dean.”

Castiel huffs out a laugh. “His first wife was a stripper. What was her name? Candy?”

“Fitting,” Dean snorts into his beer.

“Okay, fuck you both, I don’t need this abuse.” Gabriel throws some cash on the bar and walks out, flipping them both off as he goes.

“Kali is actually quite nice.” Castiel sips his whiskey, shaking his head at Gabriel’s departure. “Not sure what she sees in him but, she’s been good for him.” 

“Wow, someone was able to tame your wild cousin. Never thought I’d see the day.” 

Castiel nods in agreement. The silence grows between them and Castiel hates it. He will not be the one to speak first. He can feel Dean looking but he stays frozen, staring ahead. Dean sighs next to him and flags down Jo for a few more beers. 

Castiel orders another drink as well. 

“Well, I guess I gotta get over to Sam.”

Castiel shrugs like it wouldn’t break him apart to watch Dean go. 

Dean stands and gathers the beers in his hands. He walks a bit, turning back quickly to stand next to Castiel. 

“Hey, Cas? Do you think maybe… can we talk later?” Dean sounds nervous. “I’ve got some people to see but, I don’t know, maybe we can catch up after?” 

If Castiel was a stronger man, he’d be able to tell Dean no but when has he ever been strong enough to do that? He nods his head yes and drinks his whiskey, almost feeling as the tension leaves Dean.

“Awesome, okay. Talk to you later then.” Dean lingers but Castiel just keeps staring straight ahead, afraid if he looks at Dean now, he’ll launch himself at him and make a total ass of himself. He lets go of the tension he didn’t know he was holding when Dean walks away. 

Castiel is doing his damndest to ignore the group in the corner of the room, to ignore the constant sound of Dean's laughter that makes him flinch every time it rings across the room. He isn’t sure why he’s torturing himself by staying and he definitely doesn’t want to admit to himself that just being in the same room with Dean again is making his heart beat harder. 

He tries his best not to watch when the group moves over to the pool tables. Castiel recognizes Lisa Braeden and a few other people they went to school with. They were never his friends and Castiel knows that but it still stings a little to see everyone enjoying themselves while he sits alone at the bar. It hurts even more to watch Lisa flirt with Dean, his smile wide when she leans in to whisper in his ear. 

A few times he glances over to see Dean looking at him but his eyes flit down when he sees Castiel looking back. 

The final straw is watching Dean escort a now very drunk Lisa out the door, one arm around her waist to steady her as she stumbles. All of the alcohol in his stomach turns sour and he rests his cheek against the cool bar top, hoping to settle his nausea. 

So much for their talk. Castiel knew better, he really did. And yet, there was this small part of him that hoped, hoped Dean would keep his word, hoped Dean had changed his mind about him. How stupid of Castiel to assume. 

Jo is drying a glass and watching him pull his wallet out of his pants. She’s wearing a small frown when she asks, “you okay to drive, Castiel?” 

“No, I think I’ll walk tonight. I’ll take another shot for the road, though.”

“Since you’re walking, I guess that’s ok.” She pours him the shot and the amber liquid settles in his chest. He’s hardly drunk by his own standards but knows on a breathalyzer, he’d probably fail miserably. Drinking was how they passed the time in the Army and now, it’s how he numbs the pain. It’s how he forgets. 

He’s half a mile from home when his knee starts to bother him and he’s limping by the time he walks inside the house. The clock reads just past midnight when Castiel settles on the couch, an ice pack on his knee and a beer in his hand. He’s staring up at the glitter in the ceiling when the phone rings. Castiel has no idea who could be calling him at this hour and he thinks about the effort necessary to answer when it stops, only ringing twice. 

Something stirs in his memory and he feels foolish getting up to unlock the sliding glass door to his room. The one ring/two ring system they worked out when they were kids is something they stopped using in high school. They were spending practically every night together anyway so the system became obsolete. To think Dean even remembered, let alone used it after all this time is ridiculous. 

Castiel settles back on the couch, ice back in place. He lights a cigarette and tosses the pack on the coffee table. He sits up straighter when he hears the rumble of an engine and the slam of a car door. Castiel can hear footsteps in the hallway and he wonders if Dean will smell like sex and Lisa’s perfume. 

The air in the room thickens when Dean enters. 

“There’s beer in the fridge, help yourself.” Castiel doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge Dean. “Bring me one?”

It's a moment before he hears the shuffle of feet to the kitchen and two bottle caps hitting the counter top. 

Dean walks around to his side and Castiel finally looks up at him. Dean raises an eyebrow at Castiel stretched across the couch. Castiel stares back. Dean thinks about it for a minute, never breaking eye contact. He puts the beers on the coffee table and lifts Castiel’s legs, sitting down and bringing them to rest in his lap. 

Halfway through, Castiel tenses once he realizes Dean's plan. When his feet are resting in Dean's lap, he thinks about snatching them off, until Dean grips his good leg at the ankle and reaches for their beers with his other hand.

“So, what's with the ice?”

“Left part of my knee in Iraq. Some days it bothers.” Dean's hands tighten around his beer and Castiel’s ankle. “The ice helps.”

“When?”

Interesting that he doesn't ask how. Everyone always asks how. 

“About a year ago. Never thought I'd spend so long in a Naval Hospital, but it was something. A story for the grandkids.”

Dean chokes on his beer, quickly swiping away the liquid dripping down his chin. 

Castiel takes another drink. 

Dean looks troubled. He's glaring at the ice pack and Castiel watches when he sets his beer down to grab the ice pack and shake it. 

What the hell. 

“This needs new ice, it's all melted,” he announces. Dean looks at Castiel with purpose. 

Castiel knows the ice isn't melted, he put it there himself not a half hour ago. He stays quiet as Dean carefully stands, putting Castiel’s legs down gently. He goes to the kitchen and runs the sink a bit before opening the ice pack and dumping out what's inside. 

Dean stands at the sink, his hands clenching the countertop and his head hanging down. It's quiet enough that Castiel hears him taking in deep breaths. 

He pushes himself off the couch to stalk into the kitchen. No more fucking games or whatever the fuck this is. Castiel can’t take it.

“Why are you here, Dean?” Castiel’s hands shake. “Didn't want to do the walk of shame from Lisa's?”

Dean spins around, his face stricken. “What? You think I—”

“She was drunk. And all over you when you guys left The Roadhouse.” Castiel steps closer to him. “I'm neither blind nor stupid, Dean.”

“What the fuck, Cas? You know me better than that.” 

“I did.” Castiel squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down. “Now, I’m not so sure. The man I knew would never—”  

“The man you knew? God damn it Cas, I’m still the same guy.” Dean looks panicked. “I didn’t sleep with Lisa okay? She was drunk and was talking about driving home. I took her keys and drove her with Sammy following me in the Impala.”

Impala? 

“I dropped him off at home and drove back to the bar. Jo said you’d left already and that’s when I called and came straight here.” 

Dean didn’t sleep with Lisa. Castiel’s thoughts are in a tailspin and now Dean is looking at him with shiny eyes and he doesn’t know what to do. It would be so much easier to push him away if Dean had jumped into bed with her. Castiel takes a step back. 

Dean mirrors him and steps forward. “I didn’t sleep with her, Cas. I swear. I’m sorry, I should have told you my plan.” 

Castiel finishes off the beer in his hand and thinks about having another. Anything to avoid this entire conversation. 

“She likes you. She always has. She’d be good for you, Dean.” Castiel looks at him carefully, waiting for a reaction. He gets what he was expecting when Dean turns away from him, his fists clenched. 

His voice shakes when he speaks, “She wouldn’t be good for me, Cas. I don’t want Lisa, I never have.” 

“Come on Dean, in high school—”  

“I’m gay,” Dean yells. “I don’t want Lisa because I’m gay, all right?” 

Castiel thinks his heart stops. All he can think to do is get away. He whirls around and stalks to his bedroom, Dean at his heels. He makes it inside and stops next to the bed, his hands shaking as he lights a cigarette. “How long, Dean?” 

Dean follows Castiel into his personal space and he’s toe to toe with him when Castiel finally turns around. “I imagine since birth but I finally figured it out a few years back. There was a girl in my English class… Lydia. We went out a few times but I never could figure out why I didn’t feel anything for her. And then I met her brother.” 

Castiel flinches at the thought of Dean with another man.

“Nothing happened.” He considers that Dean might be able to read his mind. “I wanted it to but he was straight. That’s how I knew.” 

“ _ That’s _ how you knew?” Castiel raises an eyebrow because it couldn’t have been all the gay sex they were having in high school, apparently.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “Before… I thought I was bi. Then I thought I was demi. I mean, I still lean towards demi but—”  

“What is that?” Castiel’s spent so long hiding his sexuality that he’s never really done the right amount of research on his orientation. He’s never questioned his homosexuality but it makes sense that Dean would want to know everything there is to know about it.

“Demisexual basically means you only feel sexually attracted to someone that you have a strong emotional connection with.” He stares at Castiel, his eyes flicking down to Castiel’s lips. Castiel holds up his cigarette as an offering, anything to make Dean stop staring at him. 

Dean accepts and takes a drag. Castiel watches the smoke leave Dean’s lips and he can’t stop himself from cupping Dean’s cheek. “And now?”

Dean’s eyes shut for a moment before he answers. “Now… now I know who I am and what I want.” He opens his eyes and they are burning into Castiel and all Castiel can do is close the gap between them. 

When it comes to Dean, his resolve is weak. He thinks maybe it always will be. 

It's like Castiel goes back in time. Kissing Dean was always easy, always felt right. There was never anyone else for him, not that he didn’t think about seeking comfort where he could while in the military. There was always too much riding on getting caught. 

The risk was great and no one he ever met could compare to the man kissing him now. Truthfully, he doubts anyone could ever live up to Dean and how he makes Castiel feel. 

To say Castiel is touch starved is an understatement.

Their lips slide together, slow at first, hesitant. Castiel feels the tension radiating from Dean’s body. He grips Dean’s shoulders and trails his hands down his arms, circling one wrist and taking the cigarette from Dean’s hand. 

He sits on the bed, tugging Dean down with him and never breaking the seal of their mouths. He stubs out the cigarette without looking and grips Dean's neck, sliding his hand up to the short hairs on the back of Dean's head. The bristles are rough on his palm and his fingertips slide against Dean's scalp; they tingle at the touch. 

Dean rotates his wrist so he can grip Castiel’s at the same time, his fingers pressing into Castiel’s skin. He's rubbing his hand over the curve of Castiel hips, sliding to the hem of Castiel’s shirt. Dean gives it a tug and grunts when the shirt doesn't give because Castiel is sitting on it. Castiel leans into the kiss so Dean can pull his shirt up, his palm warm against Castiel’s skin. 

He's getting overwhelmed. It's too much, Dean is too much and Castiel is broken and he can't be responsible for dragging Dean down with him. 

He pulls away and regrets it instantly. Dean is chasing his mouth and Castiel places a gentle hand on his chest. 

“Dean, wait.”

Those beautiful lips melt into a pout and Dean opens his eyes and raises his eyebrows. He sits back once he takes in Castiel face. 

“What is it, Cas?”

He's rubbing his thumb across the inside of Castiel’s wrist and instead of pulling away he let's the repetitive movement sooth him. 

“I need to lay down.” Castiel drops his gaze to his hands. 

“Uh, sure. I'll just go then—”  

“No,” Castiel yells. Dean's eyes widen but he doesn't let go of Castiel. 

Castiel drops his voice. “I don't want you to go. Please, Dean. Will you—”  

Dean pulls Castiel’s wrist to his lips and presses them to his pulse point. 

“Yeah, Cas,” his voice is rough. “Can I get you some water or somethin’?” 

Castiel shakes his head. 

“Okay, I'm gonna get comfortable but I need to let you go for a second.”

Castiel nods. He just wants Dean to lay down with him and he's worried Dean is going to leave again. It's overwhelming him and he takes small sips of air to force himself to calm down. 

His eyes don't leave Dean as he strips down to his black boxer briefs and his t-shirt. 

“Under or over the blankets?”

Castiel rolls off the bed and strips it down to the fitted and top sheets only, tossing the other blankets to the floor. He pulls Dean down as he climbs in, burying his nose into the curve of Dean's neck as they lay back. Vanilla and mint fill his senses. Dean turns his head so his lips and chin are resting on Castiel’s head. 

It’s like coming home. Finally. 

Something inside of Castiel cracks wide open. Dean has to know, he has to understand because he's running his hands through Castiel’s hair and humming under his breath, a song about blackbirds singing in the dead of night, and he waits. He's patient with Castiel until his tears run out. 

Castiel lifts his head and plucks at the wet spot on Dean's shirt. “I'm sorry.” He thinks he might mean for more than just messing up Dean's shirt but he isn't sure. 

“Not a problem.” 

Castiel settles in, his head next to Dean, their lips inches apart. He fills the space between them every few moments and Dean lets him. He rubs their noses together and sighs. 

Dean runs his thumb along Castiel’s jaw. His hands are calloused and Castiel wonders how they got that way. “Cas I—I thought you were dead. None of my letters got sent back but you stopped calling and—”  

Castiel shakes his head. “No, you stopped writing to me. I thought—fuck, I thought you had moved on, Dean. I thought you finally figured out…”

Dean’s fingers are warm and Castiel isn’t sure if he’s dreaming. It's easy to lose his train of thought when Dean is touching him. “The last letter I got from you was talking about that trip to Austin we took. You said you didn’t want to see my name on those fucking casualty lists and that when I got home, we’d go for a drive” 

More tears wet his cheeks. “I read that fucking letter every day. I never thought it would be the last.” He’s trying to roll away but Dean won’t let him. He holds Castiel’s chin firmly in his hand. 

Dean stares into Castiel’s eyes and Castiel thinks he can see every shade of green there is. “The last letter I wrote to you was four fucking months ago, Cas.”

“No, no, it's been almost three years.” Castiel wants to bury himself and never get up again. “You left, you left me and then—”  

“Cas, please,” Dean pleads. 

“Why didn't you come when my mom died? I needed you, Dean, I needed you so bad and you didn't even call.”

He wishes he could stop talking. 

“Cas… I—” 

“I thought, more than anything else, that you'd be there for me when I needed you the most.”

A sob escapes from Cas’ throat and Dean flinches. 

“You let me down, Dean.” 

Dean's arms are around Castiel as he sobs, a litany of apologies whispered in Castiel’s ear. 

“I'm so sorry, Cas. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. I'm sorry you were alone. Please, forgive me Cas, please. I'll do anything.”

“You can't go again, Dean. You can't.” Castiel can't catch his breath. 

“Shh I won't, Cas. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.”

More soothing words blanket Castiel’s skin and he's afraid when he wakes up, none of this will have been real. 

He  _ must _ be dreaming because he swears the last thing he hears Dean say is, “I'm yours, Cas. Always have been.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Credit:  
> [Take It to the Limit - The Eagles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl9gZSIZqmQ)

When Castiel wakes up in the morning, Dean is gone. His chest feels tight until he notices a note stuck to his alarm clock.

_Cas,_

_Sorry I had to run, had to let the cows out. Next time I’ll schedule someone._

_Did you know you have a dog?_

_Coffee is ready to go, just turn on the machine._

_Call you later._

_-Dean_

Next time.

Castiel shuffles out of his room and to the kitchen, only to find another post-it stuck to the coffee pot.

_Seriously, who’s fucking dog is that? I let him out before I left._

Castiel smiles and puts the note in his pocket with the other one. Dean left out a mug for him. He starts the coffee maker and heads to the bathroom where he finds another note stuck to the mirror.

_Was there a dog here last night? I hope its not wild and currently eating your face off._

Castiel laughs out loud and it echos in the empty bathroom. Before heading back to the kitchen, he stops in his room and pulls the drawstring bag out of its hiding place in his desk.

He has all of Dean’s letters spread out on the kitchen table and he’s staring at them while he drinks his coffee. The phone rings.

He picks up and before he can say hello, he's interrupted.

“Do you have a cellphone?”

“Hello, Dean.” Cas sits; Dean's voice is already making him fidget. “No, I do not.”

“You know, if you did, I could text you instead of leaving post-it notes everywhere.”

Castiel rubs the corner of one of the notes between his fingers. “I like the notes.”

“What if I run out of post-its?”

“I'll buy more.”

Dean makes a thoughtful noise. “You have a dog.”

“You have cows.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “Touche.”

“It's Blue.”

Castiel can hear a muffled voice in the background and Dean calls out, “just a minute!” He clears his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that. Did you say Blue?”

“You remember… Rufus’ damn dog.” At the mention of his old owner, Blue lets out a low growl. Castiel runs his foot over Blue’s flank. “Oh hush, you old grouch.”

“Hey, I'm not old.” Castiel can hear the smile in Dean's voice. “Care to explain how you ended up that old grouch’s owner?”

“My mother and Rufus were friends. She adopted Blue after he passed away a few years ago.”

“Wow. Small world. He hasn't tried to take a chunk out of you yet?”

“No, he's okay. Sleeps in my mother's room, that's why you didn't see him last night.”

“Cas—about that.”

Castiel realizes he's been smiling when his face freezes. Dean regrets coming over. Castiel made a fool of himself, crying over him. He was probably running out the door when he left. Dean left. Again.

“Cas!” Dean is shouting his name. He blinks and gives a murmur of response.

“Did you hear what I said? About last night?”

“My apologies. Can you repeat that?”

“I asked if maybe I could come over tonight?”

Oh. _Oh._

He coughs. “Yes, I'm supposed to have dinner with Gabriel and Kali and we usually end up at The Roadhouse. Maybe—”  

“Roadhouse, got it. I'll be there.” Castiel hears him whistle sharply. “Sorry Cas, I gotta go.”

“Cow emergency?”

“If you had a cell phone, I'd text you a picture.”

“Tempting.”

“Think about it. Later, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel hangs up and refills his coffee. The letters are still spread out on the table. He picks up the last one, the one that is worn out the most. The page is tearing a little at the creases and the paper is dirty. Everything Castiel had in Iraq is covered in a layer of dust that just won’t go away. Sometimes Castiel feels like its still choking him, like his throat is still thick with it.

He folds the letters up and puts them in their usual order back into the bag. Castiel washes his hands but the grit of the desert sand lingers. He wipes his hands on his sweats and opens his laptop to research cell phone plans.

***

Dinner at Gabe and Kali’s is something Castiel enjoys. They do it every Thursday and every Thursday, they end up at The Roadhouse for a few drinks. Tonight is no exception. Kali made chicken parm and Gabriel tells her a story from their video store days. Castiel thinks he’s ridiculous but Kali laughs at all his punch lines. She decides she won’t join them at the bar, opting for a book and a bath instead.

The drive over has Gabriel asking questions Castiel guesses he’s been holding in all night.

“So. How’d it go with Dean?”

“It was fine.” Gabriel didn’t know Dean stayed the night. Castiel doubts he’d be pleased.

“Did you hang out with the cool kids?”

“No.”

“So he ditched you huh? Guy’s a dick, Cassie.” Gabriel is shooting him concerned looks that Castiel ignores. If he knew Castiel was meeting Dean at the bar, he’d probably turn the car around _and_ lecture Castiel the whole way back to his house.

“It’s fine, Gabriel.” Castiel continues to stare straight ahead.

“No, I don’t think it is. You don’t think straight when it comes to—”  

“Enough, Gabriel. Please.” He finally looks at him. “I can handle myself.”

“Can you?”

Castiel clenches his jaw but says nothing. Since he’s been home, there have been a few _incidents_ where Castiel has lost time. Nothing serious but each time, Gabriel has been there to help him.

This is different.

Castiel doesn’t want to argue so he stays quiet.

Gabriel sighs in the silence between them. “Just, please. Be careful, okay?”

Castiel nods tightly in response.

Dean isn’t there when they arrive at the bar. Castiel and Gabe sit, Jo is all smiles when she serves them. Castiel enjoys his first drink but asks Jo to switch him to beer for the rest of the night. Gabriel raises an eyebrow at him and he just shrugs in response.

Gabriel hardly looks surprised when Dean joins them, slapping Gabriel on the back and nudging Castiel’s shoulder before he sits on the barstool next to him.

Castiel smiles. “Hello, Dean.”

“Heya, Cas. Gabe. How was dinner?”

“How the fu—”

“It was very nice, thank you,” Castiel cuts Gabriel off. “Did all of the cows survive their emergency?”

Dean throws his head back and laughs. It makes Castiel’s heart pound. “Yeah, Cas. They’re all good.” Dean looks sun-kissed and Castiel catches a whiff of mint.

Gabriel’s eyes are narrowed at them.

“Well, I took your advice.” Castiel reaches into his pocket and pulls out his new cell phone, setting it on the bar in front of Dean. “I have no idea how it works.”

Gabriel’s eyes look like they are going to fall out. It’s concerning.

Dean lights up and grabs it off the bar. “Awesome.” He smiles as he swipes the screen and starts typing. He pulls his own phone out when he’s done and shakes it at Castiel. It lights up on cue. Dean messes with it for a minute before grinning and shoving it back in his pocket.

“There. Check your new phone. I’m gonna hit the head.” He gives Castiel his phone back, letting his finger trail along Castiel’s hand.

Castiel is staring at the phone when Gabriel snaps his fingers in his face.

“What in the actual fuck, Castiel? You have a cell phone now?” Gabriel is agitated. “And you got it because _Dean_ told you to?”

“No.” Castiel fidgets. He wants to open the message from Dean. “It was time, you’ve been bothering me about it for awhile, haven’t you?”

Gabriel shakes his head and slides off his barstool. “I need some air.”

Castiel glances at him as he heads towards the door but loses interest once he remembers the message. He opens his phone and laughs. The cow emergency appears to have been an escape attempt with Dean chasing a cow across a pasture.

He’s too busy to notice Ellen pull Gabriel to the side and whisper in his ear. He also misses Gabriel grabbing Dean by the arm as he steps out of the bathroom only to drag him outside.

Jo brings another round of beers and that’s when Castiel notices he’s been alone awhile. He looks around, confused. Jo must take pity on him.

“Looking for the guys?” She tips her head toward the door. “Gabriel dragged Dean out there few minutes ago.”

“Fuck.” Castiel stands. “Thank you, Jo. I’ll be right back.”

Nothing, absolutely nothing good could come out of that conversation. Castiel pushes his way outside to find—no one. Once the bar door closes, the music cuts off and Castiel can hear raised voices to the left of the building. He jogs over but stops before he turns the corner, a familiar name making him pause.

“Lisa, numbnuts! Ellen told me you took her home last night.” Gabriel’s voice is filled with venom. Castiel doesn’t think he’s ever heard him so angry. “You come back, smile your hundred watt grin at Cassie and then leave with her. You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?”

Castiel should interrupt, he _should_. He should correct Gabe but he really wants to hear what Dean has to say.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Gabriel? I don’t need your shit.” Dean’s voice is shaking.

“No, I think you do, Bucko. Cassie isn’t going to be your plaything again, you hear me?”

Again?

“Oh, fuck you. Seriously. You shouldn’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You make my cousin think you’re his friend and then you go fuck Lisa in the same breath? You really think Cassie wants to watch you sow your oats right in front of him? He deserves better than that.”

Castiel is frozen to the spot.

“I know he does, you ass.” The confidence in Dean’s voice is growing. “I did take Lisa home, Ellen wasn’t wrong. But it was because she was drunk and trying to drive. Dropped her off, then Sam, and then I came back here lookin’ for Cas. Jo said he went home so I went there, okay? We needed to talk.”

“And what? Huh? Castiel doesn’t owe you shit, Dean. Don’t think for a second that he does.”

“I fucking know that, that isn’t why I stayed.”

“What,” Gabriel hisses. “You fucking _stayed_?”

Castiel hears a scuffle and a choking sound and it pushes him out of his daze. He turns the corner to find Dean with one of Gabriel’s hands around his neck, pressing him against the wall.

“Gabriel, stop,” Castiel’s voice is firm. “Let him go.”

Gabriel whips his head to look at Castiel for a moment before he lets Dean go. Dean leans over to catch his breath and rub his neck.

“You can’t get caught up with this guy again, Castiel. Please. Can’t you see you deserve better?”

“I believe I get to be the one to decide what I deserve, Gabriel. And Dean is my friend.” Castiel takes a step between them. “I told you I can handle myself. Now please, mind your own business.”

“Mind my business? Really? Because you’ve been my business since you got back. And your mother was my business before then.”

Castiel flinches and Dean stands up straight. “Hey—”  

“This isn’t your fucking fight, Dean. Back off.”

“Do not use my mother’s illness against me, Gabriel. That’s low, even for you.” Castiel is pissed. “We’re done here.”

“Fine,” Gabriel spits out. “When lover boy over here fucks you over, don’t use that new cell phone to call me, got it?” He jabs a finger into Castiel’s chest before he stalks off towards the parking lot.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean’s hand slides over his shoulder. Castiel relaxes and nods.

“Can we go back inside and have another beer?”

“Yeah, Cas, whatever you want.”

Castiel nods and turns to press a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth.

Dean follows him into the bar.

The night is kind of shot after that and Dean drives Castiel home. When they approach the Impala, Castiel runs a hand along her side, appreciating her gleaming finish. “This car is beautiful, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes are full of pride when he opens Castiel’s car door and waits for him to climb inside. As he drives, he tells Castiel about the car and how it came to be his.

“Bobby said he’d come down and that I’m welcome to go visit anytime she needs work done. He showed me some basic maintenance stuff when I picked her up. Gotta keep her in good condition.”

“Well, he did an amazing job restoring her.”

“I’ll let him know you think so.” Dean grins at him. Castiel wonders how much Dean’s uncle knows about him.

When they arrive at his house, Castiel gets out of the car and digs his keys out of his pocket. Dean is still sitting in the car so Castiel leans down to peer at him through the window, making a gesture at him to get out. He laughs when Dean scrambles out of the car.

“I don’t have a red carpet, my apologies,” Castiel teases.

“Shut up,” Dean mutters. He slides one hand to Castiel’s hip and presses his forehead against the back of Castiel’s neck as he unlocks the door. The contact is burning him all over.

They go inside and Dean lets Blue out, scratching the top of his head before he opens the door. Castiel takes off his jacket and watches as Dean hits the fridge next. He pulls two beers from inside and opens them, handing one to Castiel. Dean holds on to the bottle for a minute too long, staring at Castiel’s hands before he lets go.

“I want to sit outside,” Castiel states. He feels cooped up, the fight with Gabriel still buzzing under his skin. He thinks the cool night air might help clear his head.

Dean nods. “I’ll make a fire.”

They settle in lawn chairs and stare at the flames, silence settling between them. It's comfortable and Castiel is thankful for it. Having Dean around has always calmed the storm in his mind and he realizes how much he’s missed it.

He lights a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the night sky. He passes it to Dean and watches his lips close around the tip, pinching shut as he inhales. Castiel wonders what’s in it for Dean, being here with him in the middle of the night.

Castiel doesn’t want Dean to waste his time. What could he possibly have to gain from this? He should do the right thing and tell him to go home, go find _something_ out there that’s going to make him happy because Castiel doesn’t think he has it in him. He also has enough self awareness to know that he really doesn’t want Dean to leave.

He holds his hand out for his cigarette back. Dean puts it between Castiel’s fingers and slides his fingers against the back of Castiel’s hand.

“You should quit.”

“Probably.”

“Cas, about tonight—”  

“You know, I've never seen the ocean?” Castiel interrupts, exhaling the smoke he's been holding in.

Dean’s hand had worked it’s way around Castiel’s wrist but now he lets go and sits back. He pauses before answering.

“Not even when you were in the army?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I flew over it but I doubt that counts.” He takes another pull off the cigarette still dangling from his fingers between them.

Dean plucks it from his hand and takes his own drag. “Probably not.”

He flicks the cigarette into the fire and stares at the flames for a minute.

“We can go.”

Castiel’s staring at the long line of Dean’s nose and it takes him a moment to process what Dean said. “Hmmm?”

“To the ocean. Let's go.”

Dean is serious. Castiel barks out a laugh. “Sure. Let's go to the ocean, Dean.”

“Why not? The gulf is what, three hours? We can get to Galveston and back by breakfast. Come on.”

“You're serious right now.”

“Yeah, man. You've never seen the ocean. Let's go look at it.”

Something stirs inside of Castiel. It's been so long since he's _wanted._ He's gone through the motions for so long that this feeling, the urgency to be spontaneous like this, feels foreign in his mind.

He squints at Dean, who's looking at him, eyebrows raised.

“Come on, we doing this?”

Castiel stands. “Put the fire out, I'm gonna grab something from inside.”

“Don’t pack a bag, grandma. We're not stayin’ over.”

Castiel just flips him off and and slides open the patio door. He does grab a duffle and goes to the kitchen, throwing in some water bottles, a fifth of whiskey, and a bag of popcorn. He grabs a bag of gummy bears from Gabriel's stash, too. Kali won't let him keep candy at home so he hides it at Castiel’s.

He gets what he needs from his room and checks on Blue, asleep in his mother’s room, before locking the slider and leaving from the side door where the Impala is parked. Dean’s leaning against the car, his ankles and arms crossed. He groans when he sees the bag in Castiel’s hand.

“What did I say?”

“You’re going to be thanking me later.” Castiel tosses one of the two hoodies he grabbed at Dean's head. He watches as Dean looks down at the sweatshirt for a minute before he pulls off the flannel he's wearing, tossing it into the back seat. Dean pulls on the hoodie and closes his eyes.

Castiel can't watch him anymore.

He yanks open the door, slides in, and chucks the duffle and his hoodie to the backseat. He makes sure the bag is within reach. Dean is still standing next to the car.

Castiel leans over, “I thought we were going?”

Dean climbs in and turns the key. The purr of the engine makes Castiel smile.

“Sounds good, doesn’t she?” Dean runs his hand over the dash.

Castiel hums in agreement. It’s stupid to be jealous of a car.

Their silence stretches as long as the road in front of them. Castiel watches the stripes of yellow paint on the asphalt breaking every other second. It’s mesmerizing and together with the hum of the car, Castiel almost drifts off. He’s wide awake when Dean takes his hand and laces their fingers together. Dean pulls their hands into his lap, his thumb rubbing up and down Castiel’s own.

Castiel reaches over to turn on the radio. The Eagles "Take it to the Limit" plays and Dean gives him a sweet smile and squeezes his hand. Castiel had this record as a kid and they both knew the entire album by heart, once upon a time.

Dean is pretending to sing, one knee on the steering wheel keeping them steady, an imaginary microphone in his hand. _You can spend all your time making money. You can spend all your love makin’ time._ Castiel is laughing into the back of his hand.

 _If it all fell to pieces tomorrow, would you still be mine?_ The song goes on to talk about finding your freedom but losing faith and it’s not so funny anymore. Dean drops his act and just holds Cas’ hand tighter.

Castiel looks out the window and watches the white line of the highway pass him by, never breaking.

Dean was right about the drive being three hours. It’s a little after four in the morning when Dean steers the Impala into a small parking lot. He puts her in park and climbs out. The smell of salt and fish fills the car.

The trunk of the Impala slams shut and Dean comes around, pulling out the duffle and Castiel by the hand. It’s dark but Castiel can hear the lap of water as waves break against the shore. It’s quiet. Peaceful.

Dean lays out a blanket and puts the bag on it. Before Castiel can sit, Dean holds his hand out.

“Come on, we’re going to the water.”

He follows Dean’s lead when he starts to take off his boots, and kicks off his Chucks. Dean waits for him to finish rolling his pant legs up and grabs Castiel’s hand again once he stands next to him. With a tug, they are at the water’s edge.

The water is warm, like bathwater. It slides between his toes and over his ankles and the feeling is comforting. The reflection of the moon leaves a long trail of light out into the dancing water. Constantly in motion, the rhythm of the waves is hypnotic. Dean’s hand squeezing his brings Castiel back to where he is, standing in the waves of the Gulf, holding Dean’s hand.

Castiel turns to the blanket and looks back at Dean. The moonlight is shining in his hair and it almost sparkles. Castiel’s throat aches.

He watches Dean rifle through the duffle bag, smiles when he tosses the bottle and the bag of popcorn on to the blanket. They sit, side by side, knees up with their elbows resting on top. Dean is staring into the waves and Castiel is staring at him, unable to look away.

“So, is it everything you expected?” Dean swivels his head to look at Castiel. His eyebrows go up when he sees that Castiel is staring at him.

“No, but it’s getting there.” Castiel doesn’t know why he said that. He stretches his legs straight and grabs the bottle of whiskey, enjoys the burn of it down his throat. He licks his lips and passes the bottle to Dean. Castiel presses a hand to Dean’s knee and Dean gets the hint, straightening his legs so Castiel can settle his head in his lap. He turns his head to catch half the sky and half the water in his eyes. Dean drinks; the sound of his mouth is distracting.

“Do you think Gabriel was right?”

Castiel feels Dean shift below him. “Gabriel’s a dick.” Dean’s hand threads through Castiel’s hair.

“Are we going to hurt each other?” The hand in his hair tightens and Dean’s other hand is gripping Castiel’s chin, turning it towards him and away from the waves.

“Now you listen to me. I will never hurt you, Cas.” Dean’s eyes are glowing in the moonlight and Castiel feels lost. “You’ve been my best friend since we were eight years old, god damn it.”

Castiel sits up and inches closer to Dean.

“Not knowing if you were ok—every fucking day. It ripped me apart, man.” Castiel is closer now and Dean closes the space and presses their foreheads together. His breath whispers against Castiel’s lips, “My life was gray without you in it, Cas.”

“Like Kansas?”

Castiel can feel Dean’s smile. “And you’re my Oz.”

Dean tastes like whiskey. Castiel drinks and pushes Dean down into the sand, the blanket a twisted mess under them. It’s warm under his palms but he’s kissing Dean and it’s all he needs. Castiel is unraveling, the feeling of being between Dean’s legs making him burn.

He pushes down the choking feeling and breaks their kiss so he can suck at Dean’s neck. The salt in the air has settled over Dean’s skin and it makes Castiel’s mouth water. Dean moans and bucks his hips and Castiel feels his hardness under his jeans. He breaks them apart, murmuring, “public beach, Dean.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Cas,” Dean whispers back.

Castiel gets up, pulls Dean to his feet and silently packs the duffle while Dean shakes out and folds the blanket. Shoes in hand, they go back to the Impala. Castiel presses Dean against the rear fender, licking deep into his mouth. Dean is pushing his hands up the back of Castiel’s shirt and his fingers are scorching. He pulls Castiel into the backseat and seals them in. Castiel is pressed against the seat when Dean swings a leg over him. He shuts his eyes tight as Dean’s hand slides up his neck and stops when Castiel’s jaw is in his palm, Dean’s fingers around his ear and tangled in his hair. Castiel has one hand on Dean’s hip and the other on his foot, the sand gritty under his fingers. His eyes are still closed when Dean kisses him, soft now, his tongue teasing at the seam of Castiel’s lips. He relents, and shivers when their tongues slide together. Dean is kissing him, _really_ kissing him.

Castiel stops thinking. What could be more important than this?

When Dean pulls away, Castiel realizes how tightly he’s holding him. He relaxes his hands and pets Dean, hoping he didn’t hurt him. When Dean slides to the seat next to him, Castiel feels the emptiness immediately.

“Sunrise is in forty minutes. We’ll start driving, after?”

Castiel nods and feels better when Dean leans his head to rest on Castiel’s shoulder. He lets his own head tip over and rest on top of Dean’s.

Castiel doesn’t know when he fell asleep but a sudden thought wakes him. He sits straight up and jostles Dean awake.

“The cows!”

“The fuck, Cas?” Dean is rubbing at his eyes as the sun starts to peek over the edge of the world, filling the car with pink and orange light.

“You have to let them out!”

Dean finally catches up to why Castiel is in a panic and he laughs. His whole body is shaking with it and what the hell?

He takes Castiel’s hands. “I told you I’d schedule someone.”

Next time. Dean planned to spend the night with Castiel the whole time. He can feel the relief and he doesn’t think it’s just because the cows are okay.

“Now let’s watch this sunrise and eat Gabriel’s gummy bears.”

“How did you know they were his?”

“Does he always write his name on everything?” Dean holds up the bag and Castiel reads, “Gabriel’s! Fuck off Cassie,” written in sharpie.

Castiel loses it. He’s laughing so hard his sides start to hurt. Dean is slumped against the side of the car door, clutching his stomach. Castiel can’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as this.

He barely notices the beautiful sun rising on an ocean he’s never laid eyes on because Dean has an arm around him while he bites gummy bears in half and sticks them together to mix the flavors, popping them into Castiel’s mouth one by one. He’s going on about proper combinations and bear halves being the right ratio and Castiel thinks that maybe this is the happiest he’s ever been.

***

They’re halfway home when Castiel starts talking.

“I hated it, over there.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the steering wheel and after a moment, he lets go with one and grabs Castiel’s hand resting on the seat between them.

It gives Castiel strength he didn’t know he was looking for.

“It was hot all day and then cold at night. It was impossible to ever feel comfortable because we had to wear this desert uniform and between that and all the gear. You can’t even imagine how it feels to be uncomfortable for three years.”

Castiel stares out the window.

“We were constantly moving, at first. It felt like no one knew what the fuck was going on. We knew the Marines had already moved through but they were just the battering ram, you know? By the time we got to where they had been, it was like nothing changed except now everything was on fire. Does that make sense?”

He glances at Dean who looks tense, his eyes glued to the road and his jaw clenched.

“During the day it was fine, we just walked where they told us to walk and shot what they told us to shoot. You wanted it to be mindless but every minute, you’re coiled tight, constantly looking over your shoulder. The IED’s… they were taking out squads left and right, you know? Know the enemy, know yourself, right?”

Castiel swallows.

“We knew one thing; our enemy did not care about a damn thing. All the rules were off the table. So we had to kill or be killed. Every day was full of death. I didn’t realize I was used to the smell of death until I got to Germany and it changed, took on an antiseptic twinge, you know?”

Dean flinches.

“But the night time. It was so dark, Dean. You know how when you lose a sense, your other senses get stronger? When we lost our sight, the sounds got louder. The low hum of the planes, looking for us. People yelling from far away, laughter from the other tents. And then, a high pitched whistle, the sound of death; the kind of noise you take cover for and pray it’s not you.”

Castiel props his arm on the door and rubs his eyes.

“I don’t even know why we were in that town, to be honest. We’d been frozen for two days, they knew it was too hard to take, it’s why we waited. Did they just get impatient? Was the intel bad? I’ll never know but I’ll always wonder.”

He tries to pull his hand free but Dean tightens his hold and shakes his head. Maybe he needs to connect to Castiel too.

“Balthazar was my partner. We teamed up for every mission. We met before and I think that’s why we trusted each other. Meeting people there, it was tricky because you never could tell how long they’d been there and anyone there for a long time—they were just kind of broken. It’s not right to distrust like that but, it was clear that was a serious concern. I knew Balthazar in the states. He was a good guy.”

Dean pulls off the road and parks the car. The tick of the engine is distracting. Dean turns his body towards Castiel, his right leg up on the seat. He strokes Castiel’s hand.

“We were clearing a school. There were all these backpacks scattered around, like the kids ran in the middle of class. We were halfway through the cafeteria when we heard it—that high pitched whistle. It was so loud, Dean. So loud the windows were rattling. I looked at Balthazar and our eyes met and then everything was bright. Yellow. Blinding white. The sound. God, the sound of a building ripping apart. I can still hear it.”

Castiel shuts his eyes and rubs at them again, willing away the brightness.

“I woke up in a hospital five days later.” Dean holds his hands so tight it hurts. Castiel doesn’t pull away.

“They told me that I somehow got thrown to the roof, half my knee torn off. I was under so much rubble, the Iraqis either didn’t see me or assumed I was dead or close to death. When I asked about Balthazar, they told me his body wasn’t recovered. That’s all I knew. It’s all I still know.”

Castiel’s chin drops to his chest.

“Balthazar argued with my decision to sweep the cafeteria. It was an open room and we could see that it was empty but at the other end of it, there were storage closets. An obvious hiding place which needed to be cleared. If I had listened to him—If I hadn’t made us go—He should be alive, Dean. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, what could be happening if he was captured alive.” Castiel’s voice drops to a whisper, “it should have been me.”

“No, no Cas. You can’t do that to yourself.” Dean has Castiel gathered in his arms. “You’re alive and you deserve to have survived. Do you hear me?” He’s kissing the top of Castiel’s head which is pressed to his chest. Castiel doesn’t know when he started to cry. “This was not your fault.”

Dean continues his mantras, his words soaking into Castiel’s skin.

“I dream about it. That moment our eyes met.” Castiel sits up and Dean wipes his cheeks with his thumbs. “I hear that whistle and it turns into him screaming. I hate going to sleep.”

Dean is staring into his eyes and taking Castiel apart. He feels like an open wound.

“I used to dream about you, over there. Sometimes you were sitting next to me, laughing. Once you were crying. Once you kissed me.” Dean kisses him then.

“Can we go home now?”

“Of course, Cas.” Dean slides back to his seat and starts the car, pulling out onto the empty highway. Castiel follows, tucking himself against Dean; the weight of Dean’s arm around him is soothing.

Castiel sleeps, and doesn’t dream.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel doesn’t get out of bed for four days. Dean comes every night. On the second day, Castiel wakes up at some point and there’s a TV in his room, an old  _ I Love Lucy _ rerun on, the volume low. When he wakes again, Dean is next to him in bed watching  _ Return of the Jedi _ . Castiel watches and Dean talks to him about the movie, about his day. Dean doesn’t expect him to answer and Castiel is grateful. 

He dreams of Dean chasing a cow through the desert.

On the fifth day, Castiel wakes up to the smell of coffee and he wants some. He gets up and finds Dean in the kitchen, scribbling on a post-it, two steaming mugs beside him. He’s dressed for work, tight black jeans with a denim shirt, tucked in. His belt is brown leather to match his cowboy boots. The cowboy hat on his head is black. He’s like a wet dream come to life and it’s almost borderline ridiculous.

“Aloha, Cowboy.” Castiel’s voice is rough with misuse. 

Dean jumps and spins around, takes a step towards Castiel. “You’re up.” 

“I am. Can I get one of those mugs?” 

Dean blinks out of his daze. “Yeah, yeah, here—” He thrusts a mug at Castiel. “I’m just—I was about to bring this to you and go to work.”

“I can see that. Are all ranchers this hot?” 

Dean fights a smile. “Yes. What do you think I was learning at school?” 

“Well, let Samuel know his investment paid off.” Castiel drops into one of the kitchen chairs. “Dean, I—”   

Dean cuts him off, “I don’t have to go in. Say the word and we’ll have a Back to the Future marathon.” 

“That’s okay, go check on your cows.” Castiel sips the hot coffee. Tastes like heaven.

Dean is hovering and checking his phone. “One phone call and I’m all yours.” 

Wouldn’t that be nice? 

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s all right, Dean. I’ll be fine. The fridge is probably empty so I’ll go to the store.”

“I went yesterday on my way home—uh, here.” Dean ducks his head. “You’re good to go, fridge is full.”

“Thank you, Dean.” He called Castiel’s house, home. 

“Your phone is charged, it’s next to the bed. I’ll check in later then?” Dean is standing behind him. “You’re sure I can’t stay?” 

“Positive. Say hello to the cows.” 

Castiel smiles when Dean drops a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m going to fry some chicken tonight, that sound good?” 

“Sounds great.” 

Dean heads to the door. “Oh, I fed Blue. Don’t let him trick you into more food. Greedy old bastard.” 

Blue growls from under the table. Castiel nudges him with his toes. 

“All right, see ya later, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” 

Castiel plans to spend the rest of the day doing laundry, cleaning, and going through the mail from the last few days. His usual routine when this happens, when his days go dark. 

He finds there isn’t much to do. Dean’s washed everything, the kitchen and living room are clean, the mail is sorted. 

Dean comes back and cooks Castiel the best fried chicken he's ever had. They laugh over beers and Dean's stories from the ranch. Everything with Dean feels easier.

Lather, rinse, repeat. 

They fall into a rhythm, their tale as old as time. During the day Dean works while Castiel sleeps, reads, drinks. At night, they're together. Sometimes Dean goes in late, or not at all, and they spend their time in bed, Dean pinning him down, making him shatter into a thousand pieces, pieces he puts back together again, one at a time until Castiel feels whole again. 

Dean smells like the sun and mint and it makes Castiel’s head spin. 

Castiel waits for the bottom to drop out. It always does. He hasn’t spoken to Gabriel since their fight, going on three weeks. Castiel has thought about calling him but then he remembers what Gabriel thinks of him, that he can’t take care of himself. It’s all bullshit. 

When he thinks about it, Castiel gets angry. He remembers what Gabriel said, how he implied that he was the only person here when his mother got sick. Castiel  _ couldn’t  _ be here but when he was out and Gabriel told him to come, he came. He sent the money, he made the phone calls each week; what the fuck else did Gabriel expect from him? 

He’s halfway through a bottle of bourbon and pacing around the living room when Dean gets back from work. His arms are full of bags, more groceries. Castiel can’t remember the last time he went to the store. He scowls. 

Dean glances at the bottle on the kitchen table but says nothing as he unpacks the bags. 

“What?” Castiel snaps. 

“I didn’t say anything, Cas.” Dean speaks carefully, like he’s going to spook Castiel and it agitates him further. 

“Then what are you  _ thinking _ ?” He’s seething. He knows Dean agrees with Gabriel. Showing up at his house with food, cooking, cleaning up. How would anyone know that Castiel can take care of himself if no one lets him? 

“I’m thinking dinner will be ready in thirty. I’m thinking you could pick out something for us to watch after we eat?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You need to eat, Cas.” Dean’s tone is gentle. 

“Do I? Since when do you decide what I need? Because you think I’m useless, broken.” Dean is shaking his head as Castiel lights a cigarette. “What are you even doing here, Dean? Day after day. I don’t need you to babysit me.” 

Anger flashes in Dean’s eyes. Finally. “You think that’s why I’m here? Because I think you can’t take care of yourself?” 

“I think it makes you feel better about yourself, yeah.” He takes a big swig of bourbon. “ _ I  _ think that  _ you _ think I need you.  _ I _ think you’ve forgotten that I’ve lived a long time without you, Dean and guess what, I survived. The hell makes you think I couldn’t do it now?” 

Dean’s arms are crossed and his jaw is clenched. The kitchen table is between them and Castiel is glad because it if wasn’t, he’d break under Dean’s glare. 

“Why are you saying these things to me, Cas?” Dean’s fists are clenched at his sides. “It’s not me you’re mad at.” 

“Isn’t it though? I can’t be your penance for whatever fucking guilt you’re feeling. You walk around here like it’s your house, your fuckin’ dog, like I’m a child who’s going to break. And for what?” Castiel takes another drink. “What’s in it for you, Dean?” 

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Castiel is over the dramatics and taps his fingers against the bottle impatiently. 

“Do you love me, Cas?” Dean’s eyes are still closed when he asks the question Castiel never wants to answer. 

So he avoids it. 

“Honestly, Dean, I don’t even think I know what that word means. Is it this horrible ache in my stomach whenever I think about you? Is that love?” He drinks. “Because I’ve been living with that feeling for as long as I can remember.” 

Dean flinches and opens his eyes. “No, I don’t think that’s love, Cas.” Dean rubs his eyes and looks around the kitchen. “I think I should go.” 

“Are you sure? Don’t want to tuck me in first?” Now he knows he’s being rude but he’s had enough to drink that he doesn’t really give a shit. If Dean really cares, Castiel won’t be able to push him away so easily. 

Castiel feels a sickening dread when Dean’s eyes meet his. He thinks for a second that if he manages to break Dean, who else does he have left? 

The thought is fleeting though, vindication taking over when Dean turns towards the door. Once Dean gives up on him, Castiel won’t have to feel responsible for dragging him down. It’s a relief, actually. 

There isn’t anything to say after that. Dean leaves and he doesn’t look back and Castiel laughs. Look how easy that was. 

No one has ever thought twice about leaving him so why start now?

When the almost empty bottle of bourbon shatters against the wall, Castiel doesn’t bother to clean it up.

***

“Hey, Castiel. Haven’t seen you in here for awhile.” Jo looks a little concerned but smiles when she hands him a drink. “Where are your boys? Haven’t seen them either.” 

Castiel shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t care.” 

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Dean walked out. Again. This is the first time Castiel’s left the house, mostly because he ran out of booze and the bar is closer than the liquor store. Plus, he couldn’t find the keys to his truck so wherever he was going to get a drink, he had to walk. 

“Been drinking already tonight?” 

So what if he has? “So what if I have?” 

“Don’t get nasty with me, I’m just askin’.” Jo’s pretty eyes are glittering. 

“Aww, Jo. Don’t get mad at me. I’m sorry.” Castiel winks at her. She’s got the alcohol, he can’t burn that bridge. “Will you forgive me?” 

She raises an eyebrow and flicks her towel at him. “Behave, buddy.” 

He sips his drink and looks at her innocently over the rim of the glass. She just shakes her head and moves along to the next drunk. 

Castiel loses track of time but never sees the bottom of his glass, thanks to Jo. He thinks he’s fine until he stands to go to the bathroom. The dizziness hits him like a freight train and he has to sit before he throws up or passes out. Or both. 

“Whoa, you okay there?” Jo pours him a glass of water. 

He squints at it. “That’s too clear, unless it’s vodka.” 

“Drink it.” She has one hand on her hip and it’s adorable. “Drink it or you’re cut off.” Castiel doesn’t want that. He takes a few big gulps but pours the rest on the floor when Jo turns away. He holds up the glass and tips it over to show her it’s empty. He smiles wide when she pours him another glass of whiskey. He tips it to her in thanks. 

“So. You gonna tell me why you’re drinking yourself stupid in here tonight? Alone?” Jo leans on the bar, her chin in her hands.

“Nothin’ you haven’t heard before, Jo.”

“Humor me.” 

“You want to hear my sad story, huh? Ok, fine. Let’s see. My dad left us when I was a kid because he was a piece of shit. No idea where he ended up. I fell in love with my best friend and then  _ he _ left me the minute he got the chance.” Castiel chuckles. “I joined the Army because I was too much of a fuck up to get into college, awesome, right? It gets better.” Castiel wants to smoke and he wonders if Ellen would mind. He pulls one from the pack and clenches it between his teeth. “Went to the Army, hated it, got sent to Iraq, hated that and got my only friend over there killed. Oh and lost half my knee in the process.” 

Jo looks stricken as he pats his pockets for his lighter. He takes the cigarette in his hand and starts ticking things off his fingers. 

“Now, my mother is dead, the only family I had left hates my guts, and I managed to chase Dean off again. Aren’t you glad you asked?” Castiel knocks back the rest of his drink and stands, steadying himself on the bar. “I’m going to grab a smoke. I’ll be right back.” 

He has the cigarette lit before he’s even out the door and he leans against the building to smoke it. It goes straight to his head. Castiel doesn’t remember how he got there but he’s halfway home when his knee gives out. The slide of gravel under his feet is the last thing he remembers. 

***

_ Castiel kicks a backpack out of his way. He can hear explosions, yelling, the room lights up every few minutes. They should fall back but no one is making the call so Castiel keeps going. He does what he’s been doing, focusing on one task at a time and right now, that task is to clear this fucking school. He think they should have just blown it up but someone thinks people could be hiding here and it’s supposedly their job to keep those people safe.  _

_ Castiel doesn’t care.  _

_ Another explosion shakes the building and Castiel considers that Balthazar might be right. He turns to tell his friend that they need to leave but—no—It’s Dean, dressed in fatigues. Dean holding a gun. Dean’s green eyes meeting his. Castiel wants to scream, wants to tell him to run, but the scream of death drowns him out.  _

_ Dean mouths, “I’m sorry.” and everything turns white.  _

Castiel’s eyes fly open. It’s dark and his mouth is dry, his tongue like sandpaper. His heart is beating so hard it hurts and he curls into a ball to stop the pain. It’s his fault. They’re all dead because of him. It should be him, no one would miss him, it should be him in the ground, not Balthazar, not Dean. 

He closes his eyes as sobs rack his body and nothing matters. Why wasn’t it him? Why— 

“Cas?!” A warm hand slides over his shoulder. “Cas, hey. Can you look at me?” 

Dean. He’s afraid to open his eyes. He tries to hide himself but fuck, why does everything hurt?

“Cas, please. Can you try to look at me?” Dean squeezes his shoulder. “I have water.” 

Water. Yes, Castiel needs that. He cracks one eye open. The room is dim but he can see Dean, sitting on the side of the bed, a glass of water in his hand. Castiel sits up.

“Dean?” Words feel like gravel in his throat. “You’re alive?” How? Castiel is confused. 

Dean holds the water glass up to his lips and encourages him to drink. The water is cool and soothing and Castiel grabs the glass and drains it. 

“Dean, how are you here?” Castiel looks at him through narrowed eyes. 

“I’m here, Cas. Why don’t you lay back down and I’m gonna refill your water and get Gabriel, okay?” Dean looks worried. He shouldn’t, he’s alive. 

But Castiel thinks he’d like to see Gabriel so he nods and lays back. He falls back to sleep before Dean gets back. 

_ A young boy runs over to him and holds up a baseball.  _

_ “Hi, I’m Dean.” _

_ “Hello, Dean.”  _

_ Castiel’s legs hurt because he’s been in the car for a long time but he’s missed Dean. His hair is so blonde, Castiel had forgotten. He laughs when Dean tosses the baseball to him and he follows him over to the front yard of Dean’s old house. The house seems small to him when he remembers it being so big. So full of hope.  _

_ Castiel was saved in that house by the little boy waiting for him to throw the ball back.  _

_ “I think I’ll just call you Cas, that ok?”  _

_ Cas. Cas. It’s who he is, it’s who he became, who he wanted to be because Dean believed in him. Because Dean  _ saw _ him when no one else would even glance in his direction.  _

_ His Dean. His friend. His love.  _

_ Dean’s waiting. His Dean. He throws the ball back to this Dean and the boy invites Cas to dinner.  _

_ “I’m sorry, I can’t go with you.”  _

_ “Why not, Cas?”  _

_ “Because I have to be somewhere. I have someone to meet.” _

_ “Oh. Yeah. He’s been waiting for a long time.” This Dean smiles and pitches the ball into his glove with a snap. “Well? Go on then.”  _

Cas opens his eyes again.

“Hello, Dean,” he smiles. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” 

“That’s okay, Cas.” Dean pushes the hair off Cas’ forehead. “Gabriel’s here too.” 

Cas turns to see Gabriel sitting on the other side of him. 

“Hi Cassie. Gave us a scare.” Gabriel looks wrecked. 

“You look like shit, Gabriel. You should get some sleep.” 

Gabriel huffs out a laugh. He looks at Dean. “I think he’s gonna be fine.” 

Cas looks back at Dean and smiles. “Your hair was so blonde when we were kids, do you remember?”

“And yours was always a mess.” Dean runs his fingers through it. “Still is.” 

“The Army made me shave it off. You would have hated it.” Cas sits up and drinks the water Dean is offering. Dean looks at Gabriel. 

“Are you hungry, Cas?” 

“I don’t think I have any food.” In fact, he knows he doesn’t. He hasn’t been to the store since Dean left. 

“It’s ok, we’ve got food.” Dean nods at Gabriel and he leaves the room, closing the door on them.

“You came back.” Cas bites his bottom lip and Dean’s eyes track his movement. “I didn’t know if you would.” He drops his chin to his chest. “I’m sorry, I said some things—”  

“Cas, it’s ok. We don’t have to talk about that right now.” 

Cas nods. “Can you sit with me?” He scoots over to make room for Dean. 

Dean hesitates and Castiel doesn’t blame him.

“Please.” 

Dean stands. 

“Hey, Dean-o. Can I talk to you for a sec?” Gabriel is standing in the doorway. 

Dean closes his eyes briefly. He looks at Cas. “I’ll be right back, gonna check on that food.”

Cas lays back and runs his hand on the empty space next to him. Dean doesn’t close the door so Castiel can hear him and Gabriel. 

“Well?” 

“He remembers our fight. Not sure what else.” Dean sighs. 

“I still think we need to take him in.” 

“I cleaned all the scrapes. He’s ok.” 

“He thought you were  _ dead _ Dean. He was surprised to see you.” 

“Look, Gabriel. He’ll kill us if we take him to the hospital. They’ll lock him up. They’re treating these guys like shit and I’m not going to rely on the government to help him.” 

“He needs to talk to someone.” Castiel can hear papers rustling. “Take this, the Army sent it before he got back. It’s a list of doctors around here and contacts at the VA who specialize in PTSD.” Gabriel coughs. “Might help you to talk to someone too.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“If I think for even a fucking  _ second _ that you’re dropping the ball, I’m taking him in. Got it?”

“I got it, Gabriel.” 

“Don’t fuck this up, Dean.” 

Their voices fade. Gabriel wants to commit him. Dean doesn’t. Cas isn’t sure who’s right. 

He sits up when Dean comes back in the room, a bowl of soup on a tray. Cas can see it steaming. 

“Still got room for me, Cas?” Dean sits carefully, his socked feet next to Cas’. He tucks the tray over Cas’ lap. “Tomato rice. My mom’s recipe.” 

Cas remembers how good it is and Dean’s version takes him back to Mary’s kitchen. He can almost hear the metal scrape of the chairs against the linoleum, their laughter echoing on the tile. 

“She used to make this for us on rainy days.” 

“And when we were sick. Remember that time we both had the flu and we even got Sam sick?”

“He was so excited to skip school with us.” 

Dean smiles and stretches his arm over Cas’ shoulders. He tucks in and eats his soup. Once the bowl is empty, Dean takes it and puts the tray on the floor. He climbs off the bed. 

Cas frowns.

“I brought a few things. I’m gonna send Gabe in while I grab them, okay?” 

Gabriel must have been hovering in the hallway because he pops in once he hears his name. 

“Okay then?” He looks really nervous. 

Cas takes pity on him. “Gabriel. Thank you. For always being there.” 

Dean’s already back and Gabriel looks at him. “I think he hit his head in the fall.” 

Dean laughs and tosses the duffle he’s holding on the bed. Cas pulls it towards him and starts to open it. “My head feels fine, Gabriel. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“I guess that’s my cue. Dean—”   

“I’ll call you if we need anything.” 

“Good night, Gabriel.” Cas is pulling out the blanket inside the duffle. “Dean?” 

Gabriel slips out of the room but not before one last glance at Cas and Dean. He leaves without another word. 

Dean sits on the bed and pulls the blanket out the rest of the way. “What’s a movie night without our blanket?” He holds it up. 

The blanket Mary made them when they were kids is in Dean’s hands. Cas had no idea Dean still had it. “You kept it?”

“Are you kidding? It went to Wisconsin with me.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

Dean flicks it open and lays it on top of Cas. “Help me pick a movie.” He holds up actual VHS tapes. Cas points at  _ The Goonies _ . 

“Hooking up a VHS player to this smart TV was a real bitch.”

“Where did you even find a VHS?” 

“Same box I found the tapes in. My mom throws nothing away.” He points the remote at the TV to change the setting. “At least the tape was rewound.” 

Cas busts out laughing. Half their shifts at the video store were spent rewinding movies. Dean  _ hated _ it. 

“What’s so funny?” Dean crawls back into bed with Cas as the movie starts. The lights are off, the volume is low and Dean laces their hands together while the Fratelli’s make their escape. The familiar music and thrilling chase scene brings back a nostalgia so strong it makes Castiel’s chest hurt. He curls into Dean, breathing in mint and vanilla. 

“Do you remember what happened last night, Cas?” 

He remembers Jo. He remembers smoking and walking. That's it. He tells Dean. 

“When you went out and didn't come back, Jo went looking. Got scared when you weren't out there.”

Cas buries his head. Sweet Jo. He's mad at himself for upsetting her. 

“She called Gabriel and then called me. I got there first and when she told me you were walking, I started running towards the house with my flashlight.”

Dean stops. He presses his nose into Cas’ hair. 

“You were so close. A few more minutes and you'd have made it home. You must have slipped, there was gravel.”

His knee. 

“I thought a car hit you at first but I checked you and nothing seemed broken. I picked you up—”  

“You picked me up?”

“You're not much heavier than a four month old calf.”

Cas muffles back a laugh. 

“You done?” Dean huffs. 

Cas nods. 

“When I got up to the road, Gabe was there. We brought you back here and I cleaned you up. You slept about twelve hours before you woke up. Scared the hell out of us.”

Cas presses a kiss to Dean's chest. 

“You were dreaming. You uh—”  

“I thought you were dead. I heard. I don't remember that.”

“That's… good. You slept another ten hours. I made soup while we waited.” 

_ He's been waiting for a long time. _

“Then you woke up. You know the rest.”

“Dean?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean's voice is rough with emotion.

Cas leans up and his lips catch the edge of Dean's jaw. “I want you to kiss me,” he murmurs. 

“Cas, I don't think—”   

“ _ Please.”  _ Cas aches to connect them. “I want—I need you.” He runs his nose across Dean's throat. “ _ Please, Dean. _ ”

Dean groans and tips Cas’ chin up, capturing his lips with his own. He slides his tongue past the seam of Cas’ mouth and Cas melts into him. If there's anything that's always brought him clarity, it's being with Dean. 

Their tongues slide together and Castiel remembers, the awful things he said to Dean racing through his brain. How can Dean want him, still? What can't Dean see, why does he always come back to him? 

Castiel breaks their kiss and presses his forehead to Dean's clavicle. He shakes his head. 

“Why? Why, Dean?” Tears leave burning tracks down his cheeks. “I'm too broken. I've always been broken. I want you to have better than this.” Castiel’s voice breaks when he meets Dean's eyes. “You deserve better than me.”

“Don't I get to decide what I deserve?” Dean gives him a sad smile. He kisses away Castiel’s tears. “How could I ever want or need anyone but you, Cas?”

Castiel’s chest aches. “You don't know what you're saying. This isn't the life you should have Dean, pulling my stupid, selfish ass out of ditches. Please, why can't you see that?”

“Listen to me. I decide. If you don't want me here, I'll leave. Tell me that  _ you _ don't want me, not because you think you're not worthy, but because you don't  _ want _ me anymore.” 

Dean's crying now and it's killing Castiel. 

“You scared me, you son of a bitch. You looked fucking dead in that ditch Cas, and I swear to fucking God it was the worst moment of my life.”

Dean's chest heaves. 

“I've spent so long worrying about you, I spent years hoping you weren't dead. I came up with excuses to skip your funeral, just in case, because I couldn't watch them put you in the ground.”

Castiel doesn't want to hear this. 

“And then I get you back and—I didn't take care of you, Cas. I let you down, I keep letting you down and I'm sorry. I should have been there. You shouldn't have been alone.”

“It's not your fault, none of this is your fault.” Castiel presses kisses across Dean's chest. Dean can't blame himself, Castiel won't allow that.

“I’m here, Cas. And I'm not fucking going anywhere until you tell me you don't care about me anymore.”

“I can't— Dean. Please, you know I can't say that.”

“Then don't.”

Dean pushes Castiel gently down before he slides his hand to cup Castiel’s face. Green eyes trace over him, studying him, taking him apart. A thumb caresses his cheek and Castiel knows he can't live without this. Not for another minute. 

He surges up and captures Dean's mouth with his. Their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces and Castiel thinks he might have been made for Dean, like there's some big cosmic plan for them and that it's always been this way. 

In every verse. 

He tugs Dean down and rolls them, one leg going over Dean so Castiel can straddle him. Firm hands stroke up his thighs. Dean slides his hands higher, thumbing at the dips of Castiel’s hips. Castiel pulls his shirt off before he grabs Dean’s and helps him out of it. 

His eyes roam, appreciating the man under him, all hard lines and soft curves. He has the body of man who works hard. Dean is tan, his shoulders ruddy, his freckles pronounced. Castiel wants to kiss them all. He starts at one by Dean's collarbone, flicking his tongue to taste. Castiel drags his mouth up and over Dean's chin to nip at his bottom lip. 

Dean's eyes are almost black and he's panting and fuck, Castiel wants. 

Dean slides his hand to the back of Castiel’s neck and pulls him close. Dean kisses with intention, like he's trying to ground them both, afraid Castiel might float away. He doesn't want Dean to worry. 

Castiel pushes back with a gasp. “I lied to you.” He runs his teeth along Dean's jaw and feels Dean shudder under him. “I lied when you asked me if I loved you.”

Dean's moan whispers in his ear, his breath hot. 

“Loving you is the only thing I've ever been good at. It must be love because nothing else makes me feel the way I feel when I'm with you.”

Castiel grinds down into Dean's lap.

Dean sits up, his arms coming around Castiel’s hips and sliding up his back. “Before, I used to think I'd give anything to be able to tell you I loved you. I thought my chance was gone. And then you were here and I still didn't know how to say it.” He buries his head into Castiel’s chest and catches his breath. 

Castiel guides Dean back into the sheets and Dean holds him by the hips. Dean's thumbs dig into him. He looks up at Castiel with fire in his eyes. 

“I thought I lost you last night. Again. I thought I had missed my chance. Again, Cas. And fuck, when you opened your eyes and smiled at me—” He squeezes Castiel’s hips. 

“I love you, Castiel James Novak the Third. I fucking love you.”

Castiel’s tears are dripping onto Dean's chest. 

“I love you, Cas,” he whispers. “My Cas.” 

Dean slides a hand up Castiel’s left arm, clutches his shoulder and pulls him down. He swivels his hips and Castiel sucks in a breath. Their lips meet, frantic, desperate, fighting for more. It feels like Dean is swallowing him whole and Castiel goes, willingly. He belongs to Dean, he always has and he needs Dean to know it. 

“Yours.” He drags his mouth to Dean’s ear and pulls his earlobe into his mouth, sucking gently. “Always yours. I don’t want to live without you, Dean. I don’t want this life if you’re not in it.” Castiel squeezes his eyes shut, more tears escape. “Please. Don’t make me.” 

Dean’s arms wrap around him. “I won’t, Cas. Never.” 

Relief floods through Castiel and he’s weak from it. He lets himself go, lets himself melt into Dean’s arms. Dean’s hand threads through Castiel’s hair and he buries his face into the curve of Dean’s neck, breathing him in. Dean cradles him and moves them both to lay side by side. Their legs tangle together and Dean pulls Castiel into his arms. He rests his head on Dean’s chest and relaxes into his touch, Dean’s fingers rubbing circles into his shoulders. Kisses pepper the top of his head and the rise of Dean’s chest as he breathes soothes him down to his soul. 

Castiel feels safe. 


	10. Chapter 10

When Castiel wakes the next morning, he’s still wrapped in Dean’s arms. He keeps his eyes closed, finding comfort in Dean’s warm breath ghosting against the back of his neck. Castiel is wrung out, despite the fact that he spent the last day mostly sleeping. He can feel the darkness curling around his edges, pushing at him to give in to it. 

_ “Dean doesn’t love you, Castiel. How could he?”  _ it whispers. “ _ He doesn’t love you, it was all lies to shut you up. How can a man like Dean love someone like you? He's going to leave again. They always do.” _

Dean snuffles into Castiel’s hair and he flinches and tries to scoot away. He knows the truth, he knows what he is and he knows that Dean deserves better. 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice is sleepy and feels like an electric shock to his already frayed system. “You’re shaking, what’s wrong?” 

He stays quiet. What do you say when it feels like  _ everything  _ is wrong? 

“Cas, hey.” Dean pulls him gently and Castiel follows the motion. “Talk to me.”

“I'm afraid—” Castiel closes his eyes. “I understand if the things you said last night were to calm me down.”

“What, no—”  

“Dean,” Castiel cups his cheek. Dean's jaw works inside his palm and Castiel is glad he's able to know this feeling at least one more time. “I just want you to have the happiness you deserve.”

“And what in the hell makes you think that means being without you?” Dean slides his mouth to kiss Castiel’s palm. He cups his hand over Castiel’s. “I meant every word I said to you last night. And I'll spend forever helping you believe it, if I have to.” 

Castiel has no fight in him so it's easy to succumb to Dean's comforting words even if he doesn’t believe them.

“I'm going to go make us some coffee. Are you up for some eggs?”

Castiel shakes his head no. 

“Okay. I'll be right back?” Dean places a light kiss to Castiel’s lips and slides out of bed. His broad shoulders stretch into narrow hips, his sweats slung low. Dean's so beautiful, it hurts Castiel to look at him for too long. 

He shuts his eyes again. 

When he opens them, Dean is there, smiling, two cups of coffee and a plate of toast on a tray. “Can I get back in there and have some coffee with you?”’

“Please.” Castiel doesn’t want Dean to leave. He’s going to hold on to this for as long as he can. He picks up a piece of toast and takes a small bite. 

“I figured toast was a good option, in case you aren’t feeling well.” Dean settles the tray between them and sips his coffee. His shoulder is pressed to Castiel’s and it’s warm. Castiel can see a scattering of freckles across the top of Dean’s shoulder and they remind him of constellations. 

He leans over and noses at Dean’s neck. Dean lets out a breathy sigh. “Better drink your coffee before it gets cold, Cas.” 

Of course Dean doesn’t want Castiel to touch him. 

He sits back up and takes the cup waiting for him. He dunks his toast in it and Dean wrinkles his nose. 

“Seriously?”

“It’s actually quite good, better with the butter.” He takes another coffee soaked bite. “We didn’t have butter in Iraq.” 

Dean grabs a piece of toast and dunks it in Castiel’s cup before he takes a bite. He chews thoughtfully. “I bet this would be even better with cinnamon toast. We’ll have to try that tomorrow.” 

He’s surprised by the idea that Dean wants to stay, that there is a tomorrow for them.

“What are you losing by being here, Dean?” Castiel meant to make a joke about the cows or something so he’s as surprised as Dean is by the question. 

“Really?” Dean puts down his cup and shifts so he can look at Castiel. He has a hard set around his eyes and his jaw is tense. Castiel longs to sooth it. 

“Not a damn thing, Cas. One thing Samuel put in place before he left was a solid crew to work for me. They run the day to day and I can do a lot of my work from here. Aside from cow related emergencies,” he smiles, “I hardly need to be there.” 

“Dean, you live there. You have a huge house, and Sam, your mother.” Castiel gestures around the room. “Certainly much better than here.” 

“First of all, I hate that house. That’s my mom’s house. When I came back, I took the studio over the garage the very first day.” He takes Castiel’s free hand. “And B, the only thing I’m scared of losing is you and there’s nowhere closer to home for me than being next to you. Wherever we are.”

Dean’s thumb sweeps up and down Castiel’s and he wants to cry. How can Dean love him so? He’s afraid of the answer so instead he puts down his cup and crushes their mouths together. Castiel grips Dean’s neck with one arm and slides the other down his chest. 

“Cas—wait, Cas. The tray.” Dean groans when Castiel latches on to his neck, biting and sucking marks there. He has to actually hold Castiel back to move the tray to the floor before they’re both covered in coffee. 

Castiel growls, impatient. He doesn’t want Dean to make them stop so he pulls Dean back to him as soon as he hears the tray get set down, and locks their lips together again. He sucks Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth and traces it with his tongue before seeking out the heat of Dean’s mouth. Dean tastes like coffee and Castiel licks deeper. Dean’s hand is wrapped around the back of his head, his fingers buried in Castiel’s hair. They are desperate for each other, Castiel can feel it. 

It grounds him and makes him feel like he’s flying at the same time. 

Castiel is terrified of falling. 

He jumps instead. 

“Dean, I want you to fuck me.”

Castiel thinks Dean’s groan comes from his soul. He kisses Castiel with a new ferocity and Castiel grows thick with arousal. He shifts towards Dean, loves the way Dean grips his hip, the way he digs his fingers in. Castiel hopes there are bruises tomorrow; proof that Dean was there. Proof of his worship. 

Proof that Dean wanted him, even if it was just for a little while. 

Castiel pushes Dean back into the mattress and works his way down Dean’s body, dragging his tongue down the taught lines of Dean’s abs. He glances up at Dean and loves the way his head is thrown back, his eyes shut tight and his mouth slack. Castiel swirls his tongue around Dean’s belly button and pulls down his sweats to find Dean hard for him. He runs his nose along the length of Dean’s cock and it twitches in response. Castiel breathes Dean in, his scent musky with hints of vanilla. 

Castiel wants to devour him. 

“Dean, if you—” 

Hands grip his hair. “Don’t fucking stop, Cas, please,” Dean pants. 

With nothing to stop him, Castiel swallows Dean down, Dean’s cock pressing to the back of his throat. He’s heavy and hot on Castiel’s tongue. Castiel takes a deep breath through his nose to let his throat relax. He swallows around Dean and Dean groans, jerking his hips. Castiel bobs his head up and down Dean’s shaft and loves the way Dean squirms under him and wishes he could make him feel this way forever. 

“Cas, baby. Fuck. Feel so good,” Dean babbles. “Cas, come’re. Fuck.” 

Dean is staring when Castiel pulls himself off his cock to crawl back up Dean’s body. Dean thumbs at Castiel’s bottom lip and replaces his thumb with his mouth. He toys Castiel’s lip with his teeth and it makes Castiel ache. 

“You’re so beautiful, Cas. Look so good wrapped around me.” Dean’s kissing along his jaw. “Wanna be inside you, so bad. Is that what you want?”

Castiel groans. “Yes, please. I need to feel you, Dean.” Castiel reaches over to the nightstand to pull lube and a condom from the top drawer. He’s planning to open himself up but Dean takes them from his hands and puts them on the bed next to Castiel. 

“Let me, Cas. Lay back, sweetheart.” 

Dean’s endearments rip Castiel to shreds. He squeezes his eyes shut and throws one arm over his face when he lays back on the bed. Dean pulls his legs open and situates himself between them. Fingertips dance across his cheek before Dean drags both hands down his chest. He sweeps his palms over Castiel’s body and Castiel burns under his touch. He rocks his hips and Dean responds by grabbing them as he thumbs at the dips. His hands slide lower to Castiel’s thighs and he pushes, lifting them open before he drops down to run his mouth along the inside of Castiel’s thigh. 

His mouth wanders, and when it reaches the part of Castiel’s body that shows how broken he is physically, Dean pauses. He presses soft kisses to Castiel’s scars—pitted skin from the shrapnel, and the remnants of a patch up job that saved Castiel’s leg in the field. The plastic surgeons did their best when he got to them but a lot of damage was irreversible. Dean looks up at him with reverence as he thumbs over the scars, dragging the shame and regret from the wound with his ministrations. 

“You’re beautiful, Cas.” Castiel remembers what it means to feel worshipped.

Dean’s hands spread Castiel open and he sees stars when he feels Dean’s hot breath against his rim. He’s tense but relaxes at the first swipe of Dean’s tongue. His nerves sing as Dean’s mouth explores him and he cries out when Dean pushes past the muscle with his sinful tongue. Dean’s enthusiastic and Castiel’s muscles clench in his stomach as the heat builds. 

Dean has two fingers buried inside Castiel, stretching him, opening him and Castiel thinks he’s about to lose himself completely when Dean pulls out, leaving him empty. Cold panic douses Castiel before Dean is there, running his hands up Castiel’s thighs before he reaches for the lube. Castiel shuts his eyes tight as Dean rolls the condom on and slicks himself up. Castiel can feel Dean’s slick fingers slide inside him before they slip out again. 

Castiel waits for the burn, the slide of Dean entering him. Dean hitches his legs up and pauses. “Cas. Cas, look at me. Please.” 

Castiel doesn’t want to but he opens his eyes. Dean looks wrecked, his chest flushed, his freckles standing out. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are dark, his lips wet; swollen and pink. Castiel has never seen anything more enchanting in his whole life. Dean’s eyes bore into his and Castiel gasps when Dean’s cock presses against his rim. Dean pauses, waiting for permission. 

Castiel nods and cries out when Dean’s head pushes inside him. Dean’s eyes never leave his as he slides inside of Castiel. He lifts his hips and wraps his legs around Dean, pulling him in. Deans’ thighs are pressed against his ass and before he moves, he thumbs at Castiel’s mouth again. His touch is soft and sweet and it makes Castiel ache. He grabs Dean’s wrist and sucks his thumb into his mouth before shoving it away. 

“Move, Dean.” Castiel needs this. “Fuck me.” 

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and nods before he wraps his arms around Castiel’s thighs and starts to rock, his cock sliding in and out of Castiel, faster and more urgently. The burn reminds Castiel that he’s alive and he groans and bucks his hips in time with Dean’s thrusts. 

“Dean. Look at me.” 

Castiel can imagine what Dean will see when he opens his eyes. He keeps rolling his hips and clamps his lower lip between his teeth. Dean's eyes fly open and he gasps. Castiel is stroking himself and when Dean's eyes get there, he whimpers and looks back into Castiel’s eyes before tugging Castiel’s hand away and replacing it with his own. 

Dean's other hand is flat against Castiel’s stomach, Dean's palm warm and pressing into him. Castiel is completely overwhelmed by sensation, his entire body crackling with nerves. When Dean leans down and slides his hands into Castiel’s hair, when his lips drag against Castiel’s forehead and when Dean kisses him softly, Castiel thinks he might break apart. 

Tears slip from his eyes and Dean kisses them, whispers in his ear, “I’ve got you, Cas. Let go, just let go.” Castiel shakes his head violently; he doesn’t want to give in to the comfort Dean offers him. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Please, Cas. Trust me,” Dean whispers, still holding him, his thrusts deep and slow. Castiel can feel heat building in him. One touch and he’ll be lost. 

“I won’t let you fall.” Dean’s breath is hot against his ear and his hand slips between them and grips Castiel. He’s coming with only Dean’s name on his lips. He can barely react when Dean presses down and bites into his shoulder, his own groans like music to Castiel’s ears as he comes. 

They catch their breath and Castiel turns away when Dean tries to kiss him. Dean rests his forehead to Castiel’s temple and his lips brush against Castiel’s cheek. He flinches when Dean leaves him and more tears leak out as Dean cleans them both up.

Castiel wishes he could stop crying, wishes he was stronger for Dean. He sighs when Dean pulls the blanket over them and he doesn’t fight when Dean wraps him in his arms. 

He’s drifting when the sound of Dean’s voice brings him back to the moment. 

“I love you, Cas. So much.” 

Castiel wants to curl into himself. 

“Why?” He swallows thickly. “You shouldn’t.”

“Because you’re stronger than you think. Because you’re the best man I’ve ever known.” Dean sighs into his hair. “Because I’ve always known that being with you feels like coming home.” Dean presses kisses to the top of his head. “Because I’m not going to let you go through this alone. You can push me away as much as you want but I’m not going anywhere.” Dean tightens his hold on Castiel. “After everything, there’s no way I’m leaving now.”

Castiel stays quiet and reflects on their life together. Dean has been by his side through it all. “We’ve been through much together, you and I.” 

Dean hums his agreement. “And whatever this is, we’ll get to the other side of it. Together. Like we always do.” He tips Castiel’s chin up. His green eyes are full of promise. “We’re just better together, Cas.” 

With everything inside him, Castiel wants to believe Dean. He’s sick of doing this alone, sick and tired of being sick and tired. If history has taught him anything, it’s that he should trust Dean, no matter how bad the darkness inside of him tries to convince him otherwise. 

“Dean… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.” Admitting it, saying it out loud makes it real. Something is wrong with him and he doesn’t know what to do about it. “Will you help me?”

Dean’s eyes soften and fill with tears. “Yeah, Cas, of course.” Castiel accepts his kisses, drinking them in like he’s lived his whole life without water. He pulls away when he feels like he’s drowning. 

Castiel sits up and rubs the tears from his eyes. Dean is staring up at him with wide eyes and he gives him a weak smile. He notices a folder on the nightstand beside Dean. Castiel nods towards it. “What’s that?” 

Dean glances over and sits up before he grabs the folder. They both sit back against the wall as Dean opens it over their laps. “Gabriel gave me these. It’s a list of doctors that can help.” Dean looks at him and the hope on his face is clear. Castiel is already shaking his head. He doesn’t want anyone getting into his head and poking around. The thought of being under such scrutiny is terrifying. 

“I don’t want to—I’m not crazy, Dean.” Maybe if he says it outloud enough, it will be true. 

“I don’t think you are, Cas. But I do think that talking to someone might help.” He gestures towards the papers. “All of these doctors specialize in PTSD and I think they could help you.” He pulls out a list of names. “Can we just look at these? Maybe you can pick a name and we’ll make an appointment.” 

Castiel considers it. “I don’t want them to try and fill me full of drugs, Dean. Some of the guys I saw come back, they barely knew their own names.” The Army’s answer was always denial and antidepressants. 

“When you were sleeping, I did some research.” Of course he did. The idea of Dean wanting to learn as much as he can about something out of his control, something out of Castiel’s control, in order to better understand how to help him is comforting. “Some therapies don’t rely on drugs. Maybe we can find one that specializes in cognitive therapy. You know, talking it out, fighting the negativity and confronting what happened.” 

It’s like Dean’s in his head.

“A psychologist can’t prescribe medicine right? So, we’ll start there. If they think you might need drugs, an actual doctor would have to do that but at least we’d know.” 

Dean is reading the list of names, his brow furrowed. Castiel can’t argue that he’s making a lot of sense right now but he still isn’t sure he needs a shrink. 

He lights a cigarette because he really needs something to do with his hands. Even after the first drag, he can feel the nicotine under his skin and it’s soothing, familiar. Dean grabs the ashtray from beside him and puts in on Castiel’s lap. 

“You keep saying  _ we. _ ” Castiel tips his ash into the glass container. “Why?” 

Dean looks at him, surprised. “I told you Cas, I’m not letting you do this alone. Whatever you need, I’m going to be right here.” 

“And if it gets to be too much? If I’m too broken to save?” He takes another drag. “What happens then?” 

“That’s not going to happen, Cas.” Dean takes the cigarette from his hand. “I won’t let it.” He takes his own drag before handing it back. “We’ll do whatever it takes. Together.” He leans over to kiss Castiel again. “And if therapy doesn't work, we’ll find another way. Okay?”

Castiel plays with the cigarette in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. Another jump, he supposes. 

“Okay, Dean,” he says quietly. “Let’s give it a try.” 

Together, they pick out a therapist in the next town over, a Pamela Barnes, PhD who specializes in cognitive and touch therapies. Castiel raises an eyebrow when Dean picks up the phone and makes appointments for both of them. 

“Doesn't hurt to talk to someone myself, Cas,” he says with a shrug. 

Castiel succeeds in leaving Dean breathless once he stops kissing him. 

***

Castiel’s first appointment with Dr. Barnes is a week later. Dean is there every day with him but the day before his appointment, he goes back to the ranch to handle some business. Castiel swears to him that he’ll be fine while he’s gone but when he gets back, Castiel is in bed under the covers, a bottle of Jack keeping him company. 

Castiel isn’t sure why he needed the drink or how he even ended up in bed but they have a discussion that night about Castiel’s drinking. Dean wants him to stop and asks him to talk to the doctor about it the next day. He takes the bottle away and draws Castiel a bath. 

Castiel feels silly as he strips his clothes off and tells Dean as much. 

“Believe me, I already considered trying to fit us both but I doubt neither Gabriel or Sam or the fire department would find it amusing to come and pry us out of there.” Dean chuckles as he checks the temperature of the water again. “Come on babe, climb in. I’ve got coffee going, why don’t you soak a little and I’ll bring you a cup.” 

While Dean is gone, Castiel tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. It’s quiet in the house but he smiles when he hears music start playing, one of his old Allman Brothers Band albums. 

He drags his fingers in the water, letting the sound of the rippling water relax him. He stares at the waves he's making with his fingers and thinks he'll ask Dean if they can go back to the beach soon.

Castiel jumps when he hears a sigh from the doorway. “Fuck, how long have you been there, Dean?”

“Little while.” Dean looks a little sad when he pushes himself off where he's leaning, crosses the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub. “It's nice to see you relax.” 

“I'm faking it.” Castiel gives him a wry smile. “I'm so fucking nervous about tomorrow and all I want is another drink.” He looks back down at the water. 

“I think that's normal, to be nervous.” Dean pops the cap on his shampoo and nudges at Castiel shoulder. “Come on, let me.”

Castiel might think it embarrassing that Dean is washing his hair but then his fingers sink into his hair and massage his scalp and Castiel forgets to care about anything. Dean's hands move down to knead his shoulders and after awhile, Castiel feels likes he's floating in the water. 

It's only the soft nudge of Dean's nose at the soft spot behind his ear that forces his eyes open. Dean pulls the seal to let the water out and helps Castiel up. He holds open a towel and rubs Castiel up and down to dry him. Castiel just rests his forehead to Dean's shoulders and let's him work. 

Once he's tucked in against Dean's chest and under their blanket, Dean speaks. 

“I can go with you. Tomorrow.”

“You really don't have to.” Castiel wants Dean to go with him so bad but he doesn't want to ask or make Dean feel obligated. 

“No, but I want to.” Dean kisses the top of Castiel’s head and traces patterns into his arms. “Is that ok?”

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel says with relief. 

Dean drives them to Dr. Barnes’ office the next day and waits in the car while Castiel goes in. 

The office is nice, even if it’s a little clinical. Castiel flips through a magazine while he waits, his leg bouncing up and down. He wishes Dean would have come inside with him. 

When he’s called in, he starts the clock. One hour and then he can go home with Dean. There’s a pot roast in the crockpot waiting for them because Dean said it would be the perfect comfort food after his appointment. Castiel has found solace in watching Dean in the kitchen, even if he won’t let him help. They’re going to start that Back to the Future marathon tonight too. 

Dr. Barnes office is nothing like her reception area. It’s dim; only a few lamps light the room. There’s a big grey couch to one side and a massage bed on the other. That’s not weird. A dark colored wooden desk sits in the middle of the room and a woman stands from behind it when Castiel enters. 

Dr. Barnes is young, younger than Castiel was expecting. Dark curls frame her heart shaped face and her smile is warm. 

“Castiel? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She comes from behind the desk to shake his hand. Hers is warm in his palm. “Thank you for your service.”

Castiel hates when people thank him for his service. If they knew what he did—no one would be thankful for that. 

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Barnes.” He looks around for a place to sit. 

Dr. Barnes gestures towards the couch. “Please, call me Pamela. Dr. Barnes is too stuffy, don’t you think?” she says with a wink. 

Castiel sits and takes in more of the room while Dr. Bar—Pamela grabs her portfolio from her desk. There are a couple of salt lamps lit around the room and a Led Zeppelin poster on one wall. Dean will like that. 

She takes a seat in an armchair across from him, a reassuring smile on her face. “You don’t want to be here very much, do you Castiel?” 

He balks at her question. “Does anyone come to therapy willingly?” 

Her laughter flits around the room, as at home here as she seems to be. “You’d be surprised. Some people know they need help and others need a little time to get there. Bet I know which of the two you are.” Her tone is almost flirty and Castiel laughs. 

“Fair enough, doc.” He rubs the back of his neck. “So, how do we do this?”

“You want to know how I’m going to fix you, Castiel?” Her eyes are glittering. “That’s not really my job.” She sits back with a smile at Castiel’s doubtful expression. “Plus, I don’t believe in labeling people as broken or otherwise. Kind of implies a lot, don’t you think? It’s just so negative.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Are you a hippie?” 

It takes Pamela a good minute to catch her breath after she bursts out laughing. “Oh, my. I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun you and me.”

She’s weird. 

She claps her hands and stands up. “Okay, a game plan. Here’s what I’ve been thinking.” She moves around the office and Castiel wishes she would sit still but also finds her intriguing. She’s wearing jeans and a band shirt under a blazer and  _ barefoot _ and is not what Castiel expected at all. 

“Today we’re gonna talk a little, get to know each other and end our session with a little touch therapy so you can get an idea of what that is; let me get my hands on you.” She smiles wide. 

Well, that’s inappropriate. 

She must be able to read his face because she laughs again before sitting down and getting serious. “Obviously, I use my humor to try and make you feel comfortable but if it’s not working, please let me know.”

Castiel sighs. “I have a cousin who is incredibly inappropriate by default. I think I can handle it.” 

“Great.” She opens her folder. “Are you guys close?” 

And here we go. She’s going to start asking about his family and his  _ feelings. _ He knew it was coming but still isn’t ready. 

“Come on, Castiel, I’m just asking about your family.” She raises her eyebrows. “I’m not the enemy. What we talk about stays here. I told you it isn’t my job to fix you but it is my job to listen and maybe suggest some ways for you to cope with your experiences.” She tilts her head. “I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.” 

He purses his lips and checks his watch. It’s only been fifteen minutes but it feels like hours. 

“I’ve got my eye on the clock too, don’t worry. Got a hot date tonight with some Chinese food and the newest season of Dr. Sexy.” 

He levels his gaze at her. “You watch that? Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” He looks around for her medical license. 

She snorts. “It’s hanging behind my desk, thanks. And yes, it’s a guilty pleasure. Don’t judge me.” 

He shakes his head. “Dean loves that show so I suffer through each week. His poison is pizza though.” He smiles when he thinks about last week when Dean jumped off the couch in response to some nurse kissing some doctor and his pizza fell on the floor. Blue ate good that night.

“The man has good taste. Dean’s this cousin you mentioned?” 

Castiel’s cheeks heat up. “Uh, no. Gabriel is my cousin. Dean is my—” Well. Fuck. Dean is his what? That’s a conversation for another day and a fifth of whiskey. He clears his throat. “Dean is my best friend.” 

“Mmmhmmm you know, my medical license is real. Your face got all kinds of soft when you mentioned him.” She makes a show of writing something. “Guess who’s on the list of people to discuss.” Pamela looks very pleased with herself. 

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “We can talk about Gabriel now.” The lesser of two evils, for once in his life. 

“By all means,” Pamela gestures for him to continue. 

“As I said, Gabriel is my cousin. He’s outlandish and commands the attention of every room he’s in. He’s a pain in my ass but also, loyal. Infuriating. Annoying. I could keep going?” 

Pamela shakes her head with a smile. “Sounds like he keeps you on your toes. But did I also hear some admiration in your voice?” 

“Despite his many,  _ many _ faults, Gabriel has been an unexpected support in my life. When we were younger, he was mostly obnoxious. When I left, my mother got sick and he helped her where I could not. I owe him a great deal.” 

“For helping your mom,” she states, leaving her inquiry open. 

“And I suppose, for me as well. He taught me what I would need to do to help my mother and was there while she was dying, and after. He tends to hover a bit but its with good intention.” 

“And did he want you to come here today?”

“Yes. I know he did but I have not advised him that I’m here.” 

“Why?”

“Well, we haven’t spoken—not really—for a few weeks. I believe he’s upset with me.” 

“Would you like to talk about why that might be?” Her tone is gentle.

“Not really. Not today.” 

“That’s fine, we can put a pin in it.” She writes something down.

“When did your mother pass away?” 

His shoulders stiffen. “It’s been about a few months now. And before you ask, it was cancer.” Castiel really doesn’t want to talk about this. 

“Were you close?”

Castiel has to think about that. Were they? He hasn’t really thought hard about his relationship with his mother. She always made sure he had everything he needed growing up. She didn’t love that he joined the Army but she understood and wrote to him a few times to send care packages. But Castiel doesn’t think he can consider them as being close. 

“I’m not sure. She worked very hard to keep a roof over our heads. Two jobs for as long as I can remember.”

“That must have kept her away a lot.” 

“It did. She even missed my high school graduation, couldn’t get her shift covered.” He drags a hand down his face. “Made it to the boot camp graduation though.” 

“I’m sure she wanted to be more present.” 

“It’s fine, it certainly didn’t feel like I was lacking anything at the time.”

“And now?” 

The question throws him for a loop. How can he answer that honestly when he has no idea how he feels?

“Can we put a pin in that one too? I’m not really sure how to answer that.”

“Sure! Whatever you need,” she beams like he said something important and writes down  _ mommy issues, _ probably. Wait until she hears about his father. 

“And your dad?” Bingo. 

“He left. We were eleven.”

“We?”

Fuck, Castiel didn't realize he said that. “Um, me and Dean.”

“You were friends then? That's impressive.”

“I moved in to the house next door to his when we were eight. I hadn't even seen the inside of my new house before I met Dean.” He smiles. “He asked me to play catch and let me use his glove.”

“This memory sounds very vivid.” She writes something else down and Castiel scowls. This is a good thing to talk about, what's weird about it?

“I recently dreamed of it but yes, most of my memories of Dean are easy to recall.”

Pamela nods. “Do you dream of Dean a lot?”

“Pin.”

“Fair enough,” she laughs and closes her notebook. “Well that's about enough of that, don't you think? Time for the good stuff.” She wiggles her fingers and Castiel laughs. 

He follows her to the massage table and sits next to her when she motions for him to. 

“What do you know about touch therapy?”

“Not much. Dean made a joke about happy endings when he was researching it and that's when I stopped listening.”

She smiles. “Well first rule of touch therapy is your consent to touch you. I'll be in neutral zones, don't worry. Shoulders, your back. Hands, arms. Feet if you're comfortable. And you can withdraw your consent at any time.”

He nods. 

“Do I have your consent to touch you, Castiel?”

A deep sigh leaves him. He's not used to being touched by anyone other than Dean. But he promised Dean he'd try. 

“Yes, you have my consent.”

“Great!” She takes his hands and starts rubbing slow circles into the top of them. “So Dean's a funny guy huh?”

“He thinks so,” he says dryly. 

“Do you agree?”

“Of course but you can't tell him that. It will be stand up comedy routines and pratfalls every night.”

Her thumbs dig into his palms and he feels the tension in his back release a little. 

“Do you live together? Or does he just come over a lot?”

Dean's been staying every night since Castiel’s accident. But that doesn't mean they live together. 

“We don't live together.”

She’s massaging his fingers one by one. His shoulders relax. 

“He stays, most nights. We have dinner and watch a movie or read. Whatever we feel like.”

“That sounds relaxing.”

“He is.”

Pamela has one of his wrists in both hands and she’s sweeping her thumbs in wide circles along his skin. There’s a comforting tingle that follows each swipe. She smiles as she watches what she’s doing. 

“You care about Dean a lot.” 

Castiel pulls his arm back and out of Pamela’s grasp. She looks up at him, her expression neutral. Her eyes sweep over his face as she studies him. 

“Terrifying, right? To love someone.” She stands. “Especially if you aren’t quite sure they love you in the same way.” She starts to walk back to her desk and looks at Castiel to follow. 

“Come on, we’re almost done here.”

They settle in their seats, Pamela kicking her feet up on the desk. She has a ring on her second toe. Unusual. 

“Do you not think Dean’s feelings for you are mutual, Castiel?” 

He thought they were done here. 

Castiel sighs. “I think he cares for me because it’s something he’s always done.” His voice drops to a whisper. “How could he be in love with someone like me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” She sits calmly, waiting for his answer.

“You have a copy of my medical records, I presume?”

Pamela nods.

“Then you know. It’s like quicksand up here. You get too close, you get pulled under.” He looks down at his hands. “Dean deserves better.” 

“Isn’t that up to him to decide?” 

“So I’ve been told,” he mutters. 

“Well, we have a few pins to go over in future sessions, wouldn’t you say?” 

Castiel nods, still looking down.

“Ready for your homework?” she asks. 

Castiel’s head snaps up. Homework? 

“Easy, tiger. It’s simple enough and I won’t even grade you next week, promise.” Her cheeky grin is back. “This week, I want you to think about calling your cousin and clearing the air between you. Maybe mention we’re seeing each other if you decide to call him,” she wiggles her eyebrows and Castiel huffs out a laugh.

“Second item, write in this.” She pushes a black journal across the desk at him. “It’s just for journaling, all my patients get one. You can write about whatever you want, honestly. I’m never going to look at it but I’m going to ask you to bring it with you each week and at least  _ try _ to write something as often as you want.” 

He picks up the journal and turns it around in his hands. He’s never done this before. 

“Third and final item and then we’re free to go enjoy our trashy doctor melodramas,” she laughs. “I want you to take this week and observe Dean.” 

Castiel tilts his head in confusion.

“From what you’ve told me, you spend a lot of time together, which you enjoy. I want you to observe what he does, especially if it’s something that will only benefit you or the both of you. Make sense?”

Castiel nods.

“Every time you notice him doing something nice, I want you to think about his motivation behind that action. If you find yourself confused, I encourage you to ask him. If you’re as close as you imply, he won’t mind your asking.”

Castiel knows Dean won’t deny him anything but he already hates this assignment.

“You could keep a list in that new fancy journal. Things he did and why you think he did them.” She stands. “We’ll talk about them next time.” 

Castiel follows her to the door and shakes her hand when she holds it out. “I look forward to seeing you next week, Castiel.” 

“Thank you, Pamela.” 

When Castiel leaves the building, he finds Dean leaning against the back of the Impala, legs crossed and sun glasses on. The light of the late afternoon is warm and Dean looks like he’s glowing. His smile lights Castiel up from the inside. Dean pushes himself to standing and grins when he holds Castiel’s door open. 

Dean always opens doors for him but that’s because Dean is a good guy. Castiel isn’t sure he puts his hand on the small of other people’s backs when he does though. 

“So, how was it? Was she cool?” Dean asks as he climbs in and starts the car. 

“I think you’ll like her. She’s very easy to talk to.” Castiel fidgets with the seatbelt, his new journal between them. 

Dean picks it up. “What’s this?” 

“She wants me to write in it. Anything I want, she said.” 

“Ooh like  _ feelings.”  _

Castiel takes it back and strokes the cover with one finger. “Don’t make fun, you’re going to have to do it too.” 

A small smile plays on his lips when Dean groans. “Great. Can’t wait.” He flashes a smile at Castiel. “You hungry? Food should be mostly done by the time we’re home. Grabbed some cookies from the bakery while you were seeing the doc.” He gestures to the backseat with his thumb and Castiel turns slightly to see a pink box tied shut with twine. “Thought you might like a treat after this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel already has a few things to write down in his book. 

When they get home—Castiel’s gotten over thinking about that too much—Dean stops at the driveway so Castiel can climb out and grab the mail from the box. He wrinkles his brow at the box sitting behind the post. Unless Dean ordered something, he has no idea what it could be. He sees that it’s from the U.S. Department of Defense and almost dreads what might be inside. 

“What’s in the box,” asks Dean doing his best Brad Pitt impression. Castiel laughs it off and tells Dean it’s just crap from the Army and that he’ll open it later. He’s tired and just wants to relax with Dean on the couch. 

Their night together is quiet and comforting and it’s no surprise when Castiel falls asleep in Dean’s arms, halfway through the second Back to the Future movie, a half eaten plate of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table in front of them.


	11. Chapter 11

In the months that pass, Castiel learns a lot about both of them. He realizes that maybe Dean was right about his drinking when he’s on his third day of withdrawal and feeling like he’s never going to get out of it. Because this is what he deserves, to feel like he’s going to die but just… doesn’t. It’s incredibly frustrating.

Dean doesn’t leave his side, cleans his messes, and never once complains—does the opposite really, holding Castiel and constantly reassuring him. He made Castiel eat and stay hydrated and kept him in decent spirits with ridiculous jokes and meta discussions about Star Wars. And sometimes he would just open a book and read to him until Castiel fell asleep, dreams full of turning pages and green eyes.

Pamela scolds them both for thinking cold turkey was the way to go. She suggests Castiel stick to beer and taper off.  _ Taper off, boys.  _ They agree, feeling like dumbasses. She also suggests Alcoholics Anonymous for them both. 

Eventually Castiel is down to one beer with dinner and Dean takes the savings from not buying alcohol and puts the money in a jar on the kitchen counter, declaring it their Beach Jar for all future trips to the beach. 

One morning Castiel wakes to the sun already high. When he goes to find Dean, and honestly, coffee, he finds a post it stuck to the coffee pot. 

_ Coffee is prepped.  _

_ Ran to the store for oil.  _

_ Let Blue in. _

_ Xx Dean  _

Castiel flips on the coffee pot and let's the dog inside. A note is pinned to his collar. 

_ My cries are a lie.  _

_ I already ate. _

He cracks up. He’s still laughing and scratching Blue’s head when Dean comes in through the back door, a plastic bag in one hand and a grin on his face. 

“Morning, sunshine.” He drops a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head. Castiel growls and drops his head back. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean backs up and kisses him on the lips, soft and warm. “Hi.” 

“Hello, Dean. What’s with the oil?” 

“Oh, oil changes for my Baby and your truck today. I thought I told you?” He drops the bag on the table and goes to get Castiel’s coffee ready. It makes Castiel smile. 

After the first week and Pamela's “assignment”, the little things Dean does for him stand out and make him feel lucky. He tries to reciprocate as much as he can. 

“Probably. You start on about the cars and it turns into buzzing.” 

“Gee, thanks. My boyfriend is so attentive.” 

Castiel’s coffee sloshes down his front he startles so bad. Boyfriend.  _ Boyfriend? _

He’s sure his mouth is hanging open when Dean looks at him and chuckles. “I’m gonna throw on my coveralls and get to work. Maybe you could start going through some of the stuff in the office?” 

About a month ago, they sold the hospital equipment left in his mother’s room and started moving boxes of his mother’s stuff in there to sort. It’s an ongoing, tedious project. 

Dean slips towards the bedroom and Castiel shakes his head. 

“I’ll finish on Baby and then come in to make lunch,” he calls from the bedroom. “Sound good?”

He’s back before Castiel can respond, a pair of gray coveralls rolled halfway down, a white tank top showing off his strong, freckled shoulders and golden skin. Castiel knows his gaze is heated as Dean descends on him. Strong arms wrap around his waist as Dean drops to his knees besides Castiel’s chair. Dean’s forehead nestles in Castiel’s neck and Dean kisses his collarbones. Castiel breathes in mint, Dean’s shampoo. 

“Is that ok, Cas? That I called you my boyfriend? I talked about it yesterday with Pamela and she suggested I try it out, but to myself and I guess it just slipped out.” 

Castiel hauls Dean up by his arms and kisses him. They’re both breathless when he lets him go and Dean needs help getting up, much to his chagrin and Castiel’s amusement. He smacks Castiel on the ass and kisses him one more time before he goes out to work on the cars. Castiel watches him from the window for a few minutes while he drinks his coffee. 

Dean looks good under the hood of the Impala and Castiel has to turn around before he goes out there and bends Dean over. 

In a fit of cleaning anxiety, Dean had dumped everything lingering around the kitchen and living room into the office and Castiel tackles that bunch first. He’s deep in thought about the word boyfriend and what it means as he comes across the box from the Army. It’s been almost three months and Castiel hasn’t even given it a thought. 

He slides the blade of the scissors across the top, slicing the tape holding it shut. A manilla folder sits on top of bundles of envelopes. He rips it open and finds a letter from the Army Post Department. The letter states these were recovered items from Baghdad due to seizure by the Iraqis. Castiel’s heart is pounding in his chest as he picks up the box and takes it to the kitchen table. Each bundle looks to be about fifty envelopes, all addressed to him, all written in Dean’s sharp scrawl. There are at least six bundles and a few small boxes too. He thinks about calling Dean inside but changes his mind and starts to organize by post date, the original one from when Dean mailed it. Some of the postmarks are hard to read, covered by different stamps from whatever various post offices the letter went through. 

God, they’re going back two—no three and a half years; he finds one from 2002 in the mix, all ranging up to 2005. The most recent letter is dated four months before Castiel’s return. 

Dean was telling him the truth. 

He bypasses all the other letters for that last one. Castiel rips open the envelope with shaking fingers, careful not to rip the thin page.

His eyes race over the words, Dean’s words. He talks about finishing school and Castiel chokes when he reads what Dean says about feeling at home, and how he doubts he’ll ever feel that without Castiel. When he thinks about Dean, writing to a ghost, his heart twists in his chest. 

Have they always haunted each other? 

Dean says he would have stayed. If he knew. It would have been over before it began if he did stay. Castiel knows this. One of the things he’s learning to accept is the man he is today compared to the man he thinks he might have been. His experiences away from Dean solidify that part of him. 

He wants to scream at the Dean writing this, feeling like this, like it’s all too late for them. Maybe if they had both tried harder, wanted it more  _ then _ versus  _ now; _ even though he doesn’t think it possible to want Dean any more than he wants him today. 

His hands clench, wrinkling the paper when he sees it.

_ I love you. I’ve loved you for a really long time. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life loving you.  _

_ All I needed was you.  _

_ I’ll never know if you loved me too.  _

Castiel reads the rest of the letter and stands up so fast, the chair he’s sitting in falls to the floor with a clatter. He’s out the door, Blue barking and following on his heels. Dean sees the dust around them rising as Castiel advances on him. He stands straight and pulls his earbuds out with one hand and a shake of his head. 

“Cas? What’s wrong?” His forehead is creased as he wipes his hands on a rag. Blue is barking at both of them.

‘Shut up, Blue!” they yell at the same time. 

“Cas, what the hell is that?” Dean clasps his wrist and Castiel wrenches it away. 

“Is it true, Dean?” He shakes the letter. “You loved me? How long?” 

Dean’s eyes widen. 

“How fucking long, Dean? Tell me, god damn it. I deserve to know.” Castiel’s chest is heaving. 

“Cas, I—”  

“Because this letter,  _ your letter _ says your whole life.” He’s shaking the paper in Dean’s face. 

“Where did you—” 

“The box Dean! From the Army! I finally opened it and it’s bursting with letters from you.”

Dean’s body sags. “I told you. I told you I wrote to you,” he whispers. He looks up and into Castiel’s eyes. There’s a smear of grease across his cheek and his hair is sticking up on one side, probably from when he dragged his hands through it. He’s beautiful. “You were my best friend, Cas. I loved you, you made me feel safe when my parents let me down and I always hoped you felt that way too. Without you holding my hand then, I don’t think I would have been able to handle it all.” 

Dean cups Castiel’s cheek. “When I knew I was in love with you, fuck—Cas. I wanted to tell you so bad. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t risk it.”

“What the fuck makes you—”  

“I was sixteen! I knew fucking  _ nothing  _ about  _ anything,  _ especially whatever the fuck I was feeling about my best friend. You meant everything to me, Cas.” Dean presses their mouths together. “You still do.” 

Castiel might be starting to believe him. “How?”

“How did I know I was in love with you?” 

Castiel nods. This more than anything will make or break him.

“Clerks.” Dean looks pleased.

Castiel wrinkles his forehead. “The Kevin Smith movie?” 

“Gabriel used to talk shit because the two main guys were in love. Remember?” He does, slightly. “We were just watching it one night at the store and it was like a lock clicking into place.”

“You fell in love with me in the video store?” Absurd. 

Dean laughs and grabs Castiel by the hips, swinging them together as he pulls Castiel into his arms. “I fell in love with you long before that, Cas. And you know what?” He kisses the tip of Castiel’s nose. “It’s not stopping. It never did.” 

Dean’s loved him for so long. If he’s learned anything from Pamela, it’s that he needs to fight back against the negativity that threatens him every time something nice or good happens. Dean is nice. Dean is  _ good.  _ And Dean Winchester has loved him for a long time. As long as Castiel has loved Dean. 

He grunts out a laugh when Dean bends his knees and lifts Castiel up by his thighs. Castiel wraps his legs around Dean and locks his ankles together. He fucking loves this man. So much. “Move in with me, Dean.”

The arms tighten around him. Dean stops and pulls back a little to look Castiel in the eyes. “Cas, I already live—”  

Castiel cuts him off with his mouth. 

“You don't live here, I never invited you.” 

Dean huffs. “That's bullsh—”  

Castiel licks Dean’s top lip. “Yes or no, Dean?”

“Yes, you asshole. Of course yes.” Dean pulls Castiel to him and bites his bottom lip with a growl. 

“If you drop me, Dean Winchester, so help me—”  

“Would you please shut up, you’re not even heavy.” Dean holds him with firm arms and groans when Castiel sucks at the curve of his neck. “Keep that up and I  _ will  _ drop your ass.”

When Dean takes him inside and presses him into the mattress, Castiel feels free. 

***

After many phone calls to his cousin and a long talk with Pamela, they decide Castiel is ready to see Gabriel again. He invites Gabriel and Kali over for dinner and Dean has been hovering while Castiel has been trying to write in his journal. 

“Dean,” he growls out. “What do you  _ want?” _

“Give me something to  _ do _ , Cas,” he wines. “I ran out of things to clean.” 

Castiel grins to himself. Dean's been cleaning the house from top to bottom since Castiel told him that he'd called Gabriel and invited them over for dinner. 

“Did you make your special breading?”

Dean perks up. “Did you get the buttermilk?”

“It's in the fridge.” Castiel tips his head back and Dean plants a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you for making the fried chicken.” 

“Happy to do it.” 

It's getting easier to thank Dean without feeling selfish. 

Dinner is finished and Gabriel should be there in less than ten minutes. Castiel thinks he would love a drink but Pamela and Dean agreed that a dry night was probably the best. He hopes Gabriel doesn't mind. 

“Babe.” Dean catches his attention and he turns towards the hallway. Castiel takes all of Dean in; from his bare feet to his jeans, his legs bowed a little. He's looking down as he rolls the sleeves of the maroon shirt he's wearing and all at once, Castiel relaxes. 

“It's gonna be great.” Dean is looking at him now. “It's Gabe. Make a dick joke and he'll be fine.” 

Castiel fists his hands into Dean's shirt. “Kiss me, please.”

“Happy to do that, too.” Dean grins as he leans towards Castiel and their lips are barely getting started when the doorbell rings. 

Castiel whips his head towards the door and then back at Dean, who grins. 

“He rang the doorbell,” he mouths silently at Castiel. 

Castiel flaps his hands towards the kitchen, shooing a laughing Dean out. 

He tugs at his shirt before he pulls open the door. He's satisfied to see that Gabriel looks like he wants to throw up too. 

Before he can get a word out, Kali rolls her eyes and pushes past Gabriel to hug Castiel. She has their faces smashed together when she mumbles, “idiots, both of you.” She kisses him on the cheek and goes into the kitchen. Castiel can hear her greet Dean. 

“Come in, then,” Castiel sighs. 

“Did you get a maid?” Gabriel asks as he pulls off his jacket and looks around. 

“My boyfriend cleans when he's anxious.”

“I can hear you!” Dean calls out. 

“I know!” Castiel calls back. He glances at Gabriel who is trying very hard to school his features. 

Castiel huffs out a laugh and clasps Gabriel on the shoulder. “It's ok, let's eat.”

Dean has laid out the fried chicken and potato salad on the table, a basket of corn on the cob in his hands. “I hope y'all are hungry.”

Castiel pulls down four glasses and looks at everyone over his shoulder. “I hope you don't mind, we're uh, not drinking anymore.” He takes a pitcher from the fridge. “Dean makes great sweet tea, though.”

Gabriel's mouth is just opening and closing like a fish but he nods at the sweet tea. 

Dean's looking back and forth between Gabriel and Castiel and smiling. “You guys are acting like you're on a first date.”

Kali laughs. 

“Shut the hell up, Dean,” Gabriel snaps with a laugh. 

Castiel marvels at Dean's ability to always lighten the mood. He smacks him lightly on the back of the head anyway before he sits down next to him. 

Castiel can tell it’s killing Gabriel to make small talk while they eat. He's practically vibrating in his seat. Castiel takes pity on him after Dean serves up the apple pie they made this morning. 

“I want to thank you both for coming. I know it's been too fucking long but I believe it was for the best.” Castiel feels Dean's hand on his knee. He relaxes at the touch. “I've missed you both, very much. And I'm sorry.”

Gabriel startles. “Why are you sorry,” he asks slowly. “I'm the one that made you feel like you couldn't take care of yourself. I felt threatened by this dumbass—”

“—Hey!” 

“—and it took me thinking you were fucking gonna die to actually realize what you two do for each other. I'm the one who's sorry, man. I fucked up.”

“I don't understand.” He never spoke to Gabriel about his time here, with Dean of all people, the guy he's wanted to pummel for a while now. 

Dean is starting to fidget. 

“He never left, Cassie. Like, you think I'm kidding. He said he made soup? No, he fucking didn't. Wanna know what he did?” 

Dean is flat out glaring at Gabriel now. 

“He refused to leave your side so he called me on my cell phone, from the same house, to walk me through it. Every step. Same when I went to the store. By aisle, Cassie. He was bossing me around  _ by aisle.” _

Gabriel's tone is getting a bit screechy. 

“He knew exactly what you'd want and all the shit  _ he'd  _ need to cook it for you.” He slams his hands flat on the table and all the dishes rattle. “He let me drive the goddamn  _ car _ , Cassie!”

Now Castiel is gaping like a fish and Dean is blushing like a bride and Kali is giggling. He turns in his seat and swings one leg over to straddle Dean's lap. 

“You let this maniac,” he thumbs behind him, “this fucking guy who somehow managed to tip my truck over and not damage it, you let  _ him _ drive your Baby?” His hands dig into Dean's hair. “For me?”

Dean's Adam's apple bobs up and down when he swallows. “Yeah,” his voice sounds like sex.

Gabriel loudly clearing his throat is the worst noise Castiel has ever heard. He lets go of Dean's hair to glare at Gabriel. 

“Well you two sure know how to steal a guy's thunder.” Gabriel looks at Kali desperately. “Why are they like this?” 

She laughs and pulls Gabriel’s hand to her mouth, kissing it softly. “Guess they finally figured out how in love they are,” she responds with a smile. “It’s quite lovely.” 

Castiel slips off Dean’s lap and back into his seat with a scowl. 

“Cool it, you two.” Gabriel points a finger at Castiel. “Now that you’re finally realizing what we’ve all known for years, care to tell me what your plan is?”

“Plan?” Castiel tilts his head as he considers the question.

“Yeah, you have to have a plan. Now that you’re  _ boyfriends _ , or whatever.” Gabriel wiggles his fingers at them and Dean huffs out a laugh. 

“Yeah well, we’re making it up as we go.” Castiel shrugs and catches the look of wonder on Dean’s face. He grabs Dean’s hand and leans in for a kiss. “Honestly Gabriel, we’re seriously just taking things one day at a time. As lame as that sounds.” 

Castiel squeezes Dean’s shoulder as he gets up to clear the table. “I don’t  _ love _ AA but some of what they practice makes sense. And Pamela says—” 

“Who’s Pamela?”

“Our therapist,” Dean replies. 

“You’re in therapy?  _ Together? _ ” Gabriel’s tone is incredulous. 

“No, Gabriel, we don’t go  _ together.”  _ Castiel purses his lips. “It’s not  _ couple’s  _ therapy. We see her individually, me on Tuesdays and Dean on Wednesdays.” He turns towards the sink to rinse the plates. “It’s actually quite helpful, having her know both of us.” 

Castiel smiles when familiar hands slide around his middle. 

“Let me finish cleaning up, why don’t you take Gabriel outside,” Dean whispers in his ear. “You guys could stand to talk privately, I think.”

Castiel wrinkles his brow. “Are you sure? What if—”  

“I’ll be right here. And I’ll stick my head out, see if you need anything.” Dean kisses his cheek and swaps their places at the sink. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says quietly. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be alone with Gabriel, but having Dean close helps him feel confident. Safe. 

“Gabriel, would you care to join me outside? I want to get a fire going.” 

He sees Kali give Gabriel a reassuring glance and it makes him happy. Gabriel has someone to take care of him too and Castiel knows it’s something he’s always needed, considering how much of himself Gabriel gives to others. 

Gabriel helps him build up the bonfire and they sit. Castiel gets the side eye when he lights a cigarette. “Not all vices are easy to give up, huh.” 

Castiel glances up towards the house where he can see Dean, still at the sink, laughing at something Kali must have said. 

“No, they certainly are not.” 

Gabriel doesn’t notice and his next words stop Castiel in his tracks. “I’m proud of you, Cassie. And I meant it when I said I was sorry.” 

“Gabriel, please. I accept your apology, as unnecessary as I find it.” Castiel takes a drag of his cigarette. “I hate to sound like that guy but going to therapy has been the best thing to happen to me and I know that you had a hand in getting me there.” 

Gabriel stays quiet. 

“I know I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for me, and for my mother so I hope you know that I appreciate you.” Castiel flicks his cigarette into the fire and looks at Gabriel again. Gabriel is staring into the window now. 

“I was wrong,” he says quietly. “About him.” 

Castiel follows his line of sight and Dean is still shining in the window. 

“He’s a good man, Cassie. And he really loves you.” Gabriel tears his eyes away from Dean. “You deserve him.” 

Castiel’s chest feels tight. Pamela says he’s made a lot of progress since they started seeing each other but some days, it’s still hard for him to accept kindness.

“I’ll still kick his ass though.” Smug bastard. 

Castiel laughs and feels lighter. Dean takes that moment to interrupt, the pitcher of sweet tea in his hand. “Anyone need a refill?” 

“He’s fine, Dean. You can stand down.” Gabriel rolls his eyes.

“Actually, I was coming to make sure  _ you _ were ok. Sometimes he bites.” Dean bumps Castiel with his hip. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Gabriel tells him, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Castiel laughs and tugs Dean towards him, snapping his teeth at him before they kiss. 

Dean waggles his eyebrows. “Tease.” 

“You guys are gross, I think I actually miss the UST,” Gabriel grumps. 

Dean untangles himself from Castiel and laughs. “You know Cas, I think he’s beginning to like me.” 

“Don’t bet on it, bucko.” 

Dean flips Gabriel off with a smile before he goes back inside. 

Castiel turns his attention back to Gabriel. “Is Kali still looking for someone to work on her accounting?” 

Gabriel looks surprised. “She’s been using some nerdy accountant but she kind of hates him. Why?” 

Castiel plays with the hem of his shirt. “I’ve been talking with Dean and Pamela and we all agree that working would help me. Dean is going to have me go over the finances for the ranch and if Kali is comfortable, I’d like to help any way I can.” 

When Dean first broached the idea of Castiel helping him, Castiel was against it. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to mess anything up and let Dean down. This was his livelihood, the livelihood of his family's legacy and Castiel wasn’t comfortable with that much responsibility. It took many sessions with Pamela and Dean’s reassurance that Castiel couldn’t do that much damage either way that helped him to agree to it. 

He hardly feels completely confident with the idea still but he’s ready and willing to try. Plus the way Dean smiled when he agreed made Castiel very happy. 

Gabriel’s face lights up in a similar way. “I think she will be thrilled to hear that.” 

The four of them spend the rest of the evening talking. Talking business and deciding to reinstate Thursday night dinners but decide both couples can take turns hosting each week. 

By the end of the night, Castiel doesn’t remember why he was putting this off for so long. 

***

Time never slows, as much as Castiel wishes it would, some days. Like the mornings when he wakes to find Dean in the kitchen cooking breakfast in nothing but black boxer briefs and one of Castiel’s t-shirts from the Army. Dean gets pissy when Castiel distracts him with wandering hands and his hot mouth in places previously covered by clothing, so much that he burns breakfast. 

It feels like time speeds up when Dean indulges Castiel and follows him back to bed so Castiel can finish what he started in the kitchen, burnt pancakes be damned. Castiel always makes it up to him when they finally crawl out of bed around noon, taking him to The Roadhouse for lunch and Ellen’s amazing pie. They’ve been trying to work the recipe out of her but she won’t budge. 

The first time Castiel returns to The Roadhouse after his accident, he gets cuffed on his ear by Ellen while she mutters under her breath, something about him being an idjit, whatever that means. Jo stays behind the bar at first, a wary eye on Castiel even though he is accompanied by Dean. After he takes his scolding from Ellen, he makes his way over to Jo.

“Comin’ in here with your tail between your legs, huh?” She’s glaring at him and cleaning the glass in her hand so hard with a towel, Castiel is afraid it might break. 

She softens when he pulls the bouquet of white daisies from behind his back and holds them out for her. A few stocks of purple hyacinth brighten the bouquet and her eyes drift over them before she takes the flowers.  

“Solid effort, Castiel. Next time try a nice bottle of bourbon.” 

“I told you!” Dean shouts. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry, Jo.” Castiel really is sorry. Pamela said he had to forgive himself before he could accept Jo’s forgiveness and she was right. “It won’t happen again.” 

She comes out from behind the bar and hugs him. Castiel is surprised, not being much of a hugger. 

“Now’s the part where you hug back, Castiel,” she says with a laugh. 

Dean comes and clasps him on the shoulder as they pull apart. “We’re working on it,” he says with a grin. “Can we get a couple sweet teas, Jo?” 

She raises an eyebrow but smiles and nods before she goes to serve them their drinks. They sit on bar stools next to one another, shoulders pressed together. Occasionally, Dean presses a kiss to his temple and Castiel is happy.


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel squints at the glowing screen of his laptop and rubs his forehead. A headache is forming and he feels like he’s been staring at this spreadsheet his whole life. His growing annoyance must have caught Dean’s attention because strong hands grip his shoulders and squeeze, Dean’s thumbs rubbing small circles into the back of Castiel’s neck. 

“Need a break?” Dean kneads his shoulders and leans down to drop light kisses along the collar of his shirt. 

“Your idea of a break is very distracting.” Castiel tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck. Dean’s lips follow the curve. “I don’t think my boss would appreciate it.” 

“I’ll talk to him. He obviously has good taste in employees.” Dean is still kissing his neck. 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Now you’re bordering on sexual harassment.” 

Dean scoffs. “You wish.” He goes back to the stove and the cookbook Castiel bought him for his birthday. “You almost done?” 

Castiel nods absentmindedly, his attention still on the spreadsheet. “Couple more entries to check.” He looks up and smiles. Dean is wearing the ridiculous apron Gabriel got him. It’s blue with the words “May I Suggest the Sausage” and a finger pointing down. Dean  _ loved  _ it and wears it every night when he cooks dinner. Now that Dean and Gabriel seem to have gotten past their issues, they’ve become closer. Their friendship is a true test to Castiel’s patience. 

“Good, dinner will be done in fifteen.” Dean’s cooking chicken and dumplings, a trial run for a future Sunday dinner. On top of Thursdays, Dean and Castiel go to the ranch on Sundays for dinner with Mary and Sam and Sam’s girlfriend Jessica. Gabriel and Kali join them when they can and Dean cooks elaborate meals for them all. He got obsessed with cooking a few months back and everyone is happier because of it. 

Dean always tries out recipes at home first, much to Castiel’s delight. Dean is an excellent cook and it makes him happy, which makes Castiel happy. 

Dean is humming along to the Chicago album that’s playing and the kitchen smells wonderful. Despite the rain coming down, the house is warm and it wraps around Castiel like a blanket. In the year since they started therapy, Dean has started going back to the ranch for more day to day work. Pamela has cut their sessions to twice a month instead of every week and between Dean’s books and Kali’s, Castiel keeps busy and staying busy helps. 

Castiel is finishing up the last of his work and they’re chatting about going back to Galveston and staying for a few days to enjoy the beach when the phone rings. 

“Novak-Winchester residence,” Dean answers with a wink towards Castiel. Every time Dean answers the phone like that, it makes warmth bloom in Castiel’s chest. 

Dean’s brow wrinkles as he listens to the other person talk. “Yes, you’ve got the right number. May I ask who’s calling?”

Dean’s eyes grow wide as the person answers and he whips his head to look at Castiel. A slow panic starts to build in his gut because Dean looks  _ scared. _

“Uh, yeah—yes, can you hold on?” Dean doesn’t wait for an answer before he sits next to Castiel, his hand covering the mouthpiece.

He grabs Castiel’s hand before he speaks. 

“Cas… This person—she’s claiming to be—fuck,” Dean struggles. 

“Dean, who's on the phone?” Castiel’s hand is trembling and Dean squeezes it tighter. 

“Her name is Anna. She says she’s Balthazar’s sister.” 

Castiel’s brow furrows. He shakes his head and holds his hand out for the phone. Dean leans in and kisses him softly. “I’m right here, ok? Whatever you need, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Castiel nods and brings the phone to his ear. “Hello? This is Castiel. You’re Balthazar’s sister?” He waits for her to respond. 

“Yes, my name is Anna. It’s nice to speak to you, Castiel. My brother spoke very highly of you in his letters home.” She has the same accent Balthazar did. 

Castiel struggles to remember Balthazar mentioning his family. Castiel knew he had a few siblings but he can’t recall their names. 

“Oh, yes. He spoke of his family as well.” Castiel is cautious. 

“That’s nice to hear.” She pauses. “Look, Castiel, I’m very sorry we had to first speak under these circumstances however, your contact information was amongst my brother’s things and I thought you might want to know—” Castiel hears her catch her breath. 

“They’ve recovered my brother's body. The Iraqi government has agreed to return him to our family.” 

Castiel can’t breathe. His vision narrows and he feels light headed. There’s no way—it’s impossible.

Castiel has to focus. Anna is still talking and he doesn't want to miss a word. 

“We have very limited details right now however we are planning on a funeral.” Anna takes a deep breath. “I think he'd like for you to be there.”

He meets Dean's eyes and pain flashes through them. It's enough to make him realize he hasn't responded to Anna. 

“Um, yes. Yes, I'd like to be there, thank you.”

“That's great,” she sounds relieved. “Well, I appreciate you taking my call and when we know more, I will let you know.”

“Yes,” Castiel clears his throat. “Thank—thank you Anna. I—your brother was a dear friend and a good man and—”  

“I know, Castiel. Thank you,” her voice is soft. Castiel wonders if she has the same kind eyes as her brother. “We'll speak soon.”

Castiel hears the soft click of the line disconnecting and he lifts his head to meet Dean's gaze. 

“They—The government there—they had him this whole time.” Castiel feels a tear run hot down his cheek. “They've agreed to send him back. When they plan the funeral, Anna will call again.” He leans into Dean's palm resting on his cheek. Castiel has no idea when it got there. 

He stands. “Excuse me, Dean.” 

Castiel pushes past Dean, ignoring the stricken look on his face to make his way outside. It's dusk but still raining, the storm clouds high in the sky and full of light from the setting sun. It's beautiful but Castiel closes his eyes and tilts his face up to the rain. 

He lets the rain water wash over him and tries his hardest to push away the empty feeling crawling down his spine. Castiel doesn’t know how he ended up on the ground until strong arms wrap around his waist.

Dean.

“No, you’re going to get dirty.” The cold of the mud they’re both kneeling in is starting to register. Dean should be inside, where it’s warm and dry. 

“Cas, sweetheart, talk to me.” Dean is pressed against his back and his breath is warm on Castiel’s ear. Castiel turns and kneels between Dean’s legs. He pulls him close and buries his face in Dean’s neck. Dean whispers comfort in Castiel’s ear but he barely hears any of it. 

Balthazar is dead. His friend, his confidant, the only person who knew what Castiel really went through in Iraq and could understand what that did to him because he was going through the same. Part of Castiel knew this was a possibility, he hoped for it even. The alternative was—unimaginable. He doesn’t even want to think about the pain his family must have been going through, not knowing. 

They’re both soaked but Castiel lets himself be held; Dean makes him feel safe. Dean is pressing kisses to Castiel’s face, over his cheeks and up to his forehead. When their lips meet, Castiel releases tension he didn’t even realize he was holding. Dean’s mouth is warm and he tastes like mint and Castiel wants more. He wants all of Dean, he wants to forget, he can’t think about Balthazar anymore and he wants Dean to distract him. Dean grips his hips when Castiel kisses him harder, his hands yanking at Dean’s shirt to pull it off. Castiel wants to feel Dean’s skin against his to make sure he’s still alive. 

He lets Dean help him up and guide them inside, as long as he doesn’t stop kissing him. Once inside, Dean pushes him against the door, his hands sliding under Castiel’s soaked shirt. His hands are cold but so is Castiel’s skin and he separates them with a shake of his head. 

Castiel frowns. 

“You’re frozen, Cas. We’re showering, come on.” Dean tries to lead him to the bathroom but Castiel pulls his hand back. 

“Don’t you get it, Dean?” From nowhere, anger spikes through him. “If I had been a better leader, if I had listened to him, he would be alive right now and not in a fucking pine box being sent back to the States. That family has been suffering for years,  _ years  _ Dean. They didn’t know if their son, their brother, was even alive.” Castiel’s hands are shaking and it’s not because of the cold. “Do you even know what that’s like?” 

Dean steps back with a look on his face like Castiel slapped him. His voice drops to a whisper. “Yeah Cas, I do. I do know what that’s like.” 

The fight drains out of Castiel and he sags against the door. He’s responsible for this, for Balthazar and Dean’s anguish. This is why he’s poison and why Dean needs to realize that before it’s too late for him too. His breath quickens as Dean takes two big strides across the kitchen to wrap him in his arms again. 

“Stop. Stop whatever you’re thinking because it’s not true. You’re a good man, Cas, the best I know.” 

Castiel shakes his head because it’s not true. It will never be true. 

“Listen to me. Balthazar’s blood is not on your hands.” 

Castiel tries to protest but Dean cuts him off. “No. You were following orders and doing the best you could in the worst conditions. That’s war, Cas.” Dean cups Castiel’s face in his hands. “Look at me.” He presses a kiss to Castiel’s lips when their eyes meet. “This is not your fault.” 

Castiel says nothing but follows Dean when he pulls him towards the bathroom. The shower is hot within minutes and Dean has them both stripped and under the spray quickly. The water is soothing compared to the downpour they were in earlier. Dean lets Castiel rest his weight against him but he’s quiet as he washes Castiel, long swipes of the washcloth rubbing against his skin. Castiel rests his head against Dean’s shoulder as he washes his hair.

Castiel’s mind is quiet as Dean dries them both and takes Castiel to bed. It’s like even his brain is exhausted. He lets Dean wrap him into blankets and watches him leave the room. He stares at the door, his eyes unfocused as he goes over the conversation with Anna again. He wonders how long it will take them to get Balthazar home. 

Dean comes back with a bowl of chicken and dumplings but Castiel’s appetite is gone. He takes a few bites to humor Dean but it tastes like sawdust and he pushes it away. He closes his eyes when Dean climbs into bed and wraps an arm around him. He hears the TV turn on, the volume low, but he doesn’t bother to open his eyes. Dean pulls their blanket up to Castiel’s chest and he burrows in. He doesn’t remember any of his dreams. 

Castiel doesn’t get out of bed for a week. He doesn’t see the point. 

The first day or so, Dean let’s him be, brings him food which Castiel eats just enough of so he doesn’t worry. By the end of the third day, Dean’s called Gabriel. He sits in bed with Castiel and watches Dumb and Dumber, cracking stupid jokes the whole time. Even Kali comes with a bag full of yarn and needles. She sits with him and talks him through the basics of knitting. Castiel watches her but never says a word. She kisses him on the forehead before she leaves, whispering that her and Gabe love him very much and that they will always be here for him. 

Castiel wishes it meant more. 

On the fifth day, Dean finds Castiel in their closet, throwing everything out. He knows he hid a bottle of bourbon in here once and he’s determined to find it. He woke up in a panic and Castiel knows that the amber liquid is the only thing that will make it go away. 

“You’re not going to find it,” Dean says to his back. “Gabriel and I found all your hiding spots and threw it all out after your accident.”

It’s enough to bring Castiel pause and he throws a glare over his shoulder at Dean before he climbs out of the closet. He crawls into bed and throws the blankets back over his head. 

On the sixth day, Pamela shows up. She sits on the side of the bed and takes his hand in hers. She’s already rubbing circles into his palm before she speaks. 

“You missed our appointment, Cas. When Dean called to cancel, I got worried.” Castiel looks at her, sorry for causing her worry. She gives him a small smile before she continues. “Figured I’d make a housecall, I missed you so much.” 

He looks away. “No one misses me, Pamela.” It’s the most he’s spoken in six days. 

“Now that’s not true at all. I have it on good authority that your family has been here every day. Gabe and Kali, even Sam. Dean’s holding up, in case you were wondering.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“We had a nice long talk this morning. He’s chatty, that one. He told me you were looking for a drink yesterday. Wanna talk about that?” 

Castiel shakes his head no.

“Do you still want to drink?” 

He doesn’t. Pamela’s touch is soothing and so is her voice. Castiel doesn’t know where his panic came from yesterday but it’s gone now and he feels better. He shakes his head again.

“Well, that’s good news.” She’s working her way up his arms, squeezing and kneading the muscles. “Wanna talk about what put you here?” 

“Not really.” 

“Humor me.” She’s made her way to his shoulder now and Castiel is the most relaxed he’s been in days. 

“I spoke to Balthazar’s sister.” He explains their phone call, only pausing when Pamela moves to the other side of the bed to start massaging his other hand. “There’s going to be a funeral and I don’t think I can go.”

“Why not?”

“How am I going to look his family in the eyes? When they ask me what happened to him, what am I supposed to say?”

“You’ll tell them the truth.

“What? That I killed their son?” he asks bitterly. “They’ll run me out of there and it will be for good reason.” Castiel shakes his head. “No, it’s better I not go.” 

Pamela grips his hand. “All right, that’s one way to think about it. Can I propose an alternative?” 

Castiel shrugs. 

“I’m taking that as a yes.” She’s up to his shoulder now. “What if you go, offer your condolences to his family and tell them about your experiences with him and how you two became friends. If they ask about what happened, be honest.” 

Castiel finally looks at her. 

“Don’t give me that look. You’ll tell them the truth, that you were attacked and that you’re not exactly sure how it happened. Because you’re not.” She’s done with the massage and is sitting with him and simply holding his hand now. “What happened in that school is  _ not _ your fault Castiel. You were beginning to accept this. What changed?” 

“Because before there was still that uncertainty. And now that I  _ know _ —I suppose I expected it to be one of those things that I’d never know the answer to. And I was ok with that.” He closes his eyes. “Now I have to watch my friend be buried.” 

“Now you have the ability to find closure, Castiel. To say goodbye properly and mourn your friend. It’s something you need to do.” She stands. “And I will be here to help you. So will Dean. Don’t forget that it’s ok to rely on your family when things are difficult to handle.” She crosses the room to the doorway. “Crawling into bed for the week is never the answer.” She smiles. “I’ll see you next week, in my office.” 

She’s right, Castiel knows she’s right. He nods and lifts a hand in goodbye. Dean comes in shortly after with a glass of orange juice and some toast. Castiel grabs his hand after he sets them down on the nightstand and he kisses his thanks into Dean’s palm. Dean pushes some of Castiel’s hair off his forehead and lays a kiss there. 

“I’m going to get everyone out of here and come join you. Would that be ok?” 

Of course, anything Dean wants, Castiel will always try to give him. He nods. 

When Dean comes back, he holds Castiel until he falls asleep, something he’s done every single night Castiel’s been hiding. He never wavers, he always makes sure Castiel has everything he needs even when he doesn’t ask for any of it. If he can’t find it in him to be strong for himself, he has to do it for Dean. 

The next morning, he wakes to green eyes watching him. Castiel smiles. 

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean looks pleased. “Morning, sunshine.” He gives Castiel a gentle peck. “Missed that smile of yours.” 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He is. A relationship means both partners give to each other equally and Castiel knows he hasn’t been doing his part. 

“No, how many times do I have to tell you? You never need to apologize to me when this happens. Okay?” Dean tips his chin up. “I love you. We’re in this together.” 

“I love you too, Dean. Very much.” 

“Would you like some coffee?” 

Castiel shakes his head and doesn't take his eyes off Dean. “Can we just lay here a little longer?” 

Dean’s smile is warm. “Of course, Cas. Whatever you want.” 

They stay that way and Castiel loses track of time. All that matters is one of Dean’s hands playing with his hair and the other on his hip, his thumb sweeping over and over his skin. Their legs are intertwined and one of Dean’s feet rubs against Castiel’s calf. When Dean fills the empty space between them to run his nose against Castiel’s, he feels at peace. 

“Did I ever tell you about meeting Balthazar?” 

If Dean is surprised at Castiel’s chosen topic, his face doesn’t give it away. He shakes his head. “No, but I’d love to hear the story.” 

Castiel smiles as he remembers. “We met when we were stationed in Yuma. His room was on the same floor as mine and he hated his roommate. Said he smelled like onions,” Castiel chuckled. “My roommate, Zeke, he was decent but he had friends in other barracks so he was never in our room. He also had a TV so Balthazar and I spent a lot of time watching that. The first time he came to hang out he brought a bottle of tequila. We were fast friends after that.” 

Dean looks fascinated as he listens. 

“Baz had a killer hangover cure. There was a little diner right off the base that made the greasiest corn beef hash I’ve ever had and since we were so close to Mexico, everything was spicy.” Castiel shook his head at the memory. “We were served and he added  _ more _ hot sauce. I couldn’t taste anything for a week but my hangover was gone by the time we walked out of there.” 

“Oh man, I could have used that cure a time or two,” Dean laughs.

“When we were deployed, he thought it was entertaining to tell me stories of his many conquests as a younger man. Wanted to know what a twelve person orgy would be called. He polled our entire garrison. I don’t think he ever got the answer he was looking for.” 

Castiel closes his eyes. 

“When we were scared over there—and we were scared a lot, Dean—he would go on for hours about that movie Titanic? Did you ever see it?” 

Dean shakes his head.

‘Well, he loathed it. Sometimes I would hum “My Heart Will Go On” just to annoy him.” 

Dean chuckles and squeezes his hip. 

“Funny enough, he could quote the entire movie which is odd for someone who claimed to hate it as much as Baz did.” Castiel’s smile is sad. “When he ran out of Titanic fodder, he’d ask me questions about you and our friendship. Said we were lucky to have found each other so young. He always said the story of our broken legs was his favorite.” 

Dean leans over and kisses him. “You told him how many jumps it took for you to finally bust your leg?” 

“Hell no, told him I managed on the first try.” 

Dean laughs and pulls Castiel into his chest where he burrows his head into Dean’s neck. “He sounds like a good guy, Cas. I’m real glad you had him there with you.” 

“Me too.” Castiel tilts his head back to look at Dean. “When Anna gives us the details of the funeral, will you come with me?” Castiel pauses, afraid Dean will say no. 

“Nothing is more important, Cas. Of course I’ll go with you.” 

Castiel is relieved and he relaxes back into Dean’s embrace. 

Anna calls a week later to let them know that the funeral will be held the following weekend in their family’s hometown of Valdosta, Georgia. Balthazar will receive a full military funeral and Anna asks Castiel if he would be a pallbearer. He has reservations but agrees to her request. 

The drive to Georgia takes over fourteen hours but they keep each other entertained enough that Castiel almost forgets why they’re on this little road trip. Every time he remembers, it sobers him. 

Their hotel is cozy with good water pressure and a memory foam mattress. Dean declares that they’re getting one when they get home. They enjoy a quiet dinner together and they shower together before bed. When Castiel presses Dean into the mattress, he finds Dean open and willing to give Castiel whatever he wants. Castiel moves slow, sinking into Dean and when they come, Castiel feels like whatever life is going to throw at them, they’re going to survive it, that  _ he’s  _ going to survive it because this beautiful man will make sure of it.

Castiel will live every day of his life trying to make Dean understand that he’ll do the same for him. 

The next morning, Castiel irons their clothes for the day. Dean’s black suit is easy but he takes extra special care with his uniform. He hasn’t put on his dress uniform since before he was deployed but he remembers how it needs to be creased and when he buttons up the silver buttons of his jacket, he slips back into the same mentality he carried with him during his six years in the military. 

Castiel stands a little straighter and smooths down the jacket as he checks his reflection in the mirror. 

“Holy shit.” 

Castiel turns to see Dean in the doorway of the bathroom, surprise and desire working their way across his face. He crosses the room to run his hands reverently over Castiel’s shoulders and down his chest, fingering the medals and his nameplate pinned to the front. 

“You look—” His voice is rough and Dean has to clear his throat. “You’re so handsome, Cas. Distinguished.” 

Castiel blushes and shakes his head. 

“I’m serious. How does it feel, wearing it again?” 

“I thought it was going to be hard,” Castiel admits. “But I feel—it makes me feel proud to have served.” 

“That’s great, Cas. You should feel proud.” Dean leans in to kiss him. “I’m proud of you.” 

It’s enough to get him out the door and into the car. 

The funeral is small, family and close friends only. When Castiel lifts the casket, it's lighter than he expected but it still makes his chest ache just the same. When his job is done, Dean is there, waiting. 

Dean is there, a hand on Castiel’s elbow when he meets Balthazar’s family. When Balthazar’s father shakes his hand and his mother kisses Castiel on the cheek, when his sisters hug him and thank him for coming, Dean holds his hand the entire time. When it's Castiel’s turn to throw dirt into Balthazar’s grave, when he leans in and whispers, “The French word for twelve is  _ douze _ , my friend. I'll miss you,” Dean is there with a hand on the small of Castiel’s back. 

When Dean drives them to Galveston instead of home and tells Castiel they're staying for as long as he wants, Castiel doesn't bother to wipe away the tears. And when Dean kisses them away, Castiel smiles. 

Dean drives them back to the beach they first visited over a year ago, driving right onto the sand. The sun is setting on the gulf and there's a warm breeze that dances over Castiel’s face when he tips it up to the sky. When he hears their song playing from the Impala, he looks over at Dean who, at some point, put on one of Castiel’s hoodies and is smiling his sweet smile at him. 

“Will you dance with me, Cas?” He holds his hand out and Castiel takes it, laughing when Dean wraps him in his arms. 

_ I fooled around and fell in love.  _

Dean takes them the few steps to the water’s edge before he speaks. 

“Well? Don't leave me hangin’ here, Cas.”

“Of course I'll dance with you, Dean.” He kisses him. 

_ I fooled around and fell in love, since I met you baby.  _

They start to dance as the waves wash over their feet. Castiel remembers the night of prom and how scared he was, scared of his uncertain future, scared to tell Dean how in love with him he was then. When Dean confessed he knew about the schools and said he was leaving Castiel, he had pushed all his feelings down, determined not to let them crush him. 

Even when Dean kissed him, he always thought he'd never be enough for someone like Dean to love back. 

_ Since I met you baby, love's got a hold on me. It's got a hold on me now, I can't let go of you baby.  _

Castiel has never been happier to be wrong. 

“Thank you, Dean. For loving me,” he whispers. Dean's arms tighten around him. “I'll never be able to show you just how much your love has meant to me.”

“Just tell me you love me everyday, Cas.” Dean whispers back, his lips against Castiel’s ear. “Can you do that for me?”

Castiel locks their mouths together for a moment, kissing Dean with every promise he can make behind his lips. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean gives him a smile so tender, it makes Castiel feel complete. 

“Then nothing else matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! 
> 
> Come say hello on [Tumblr!](https://casloveshisfreckles.tumblr.com/)


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